#(sorry about that) I will throw a fucking tantrum like you won’t believe

[gin-draws]

I’m about to eat my phone…

[ilyrafe]

𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: brief sexual innuendo, rafe being a softie!!!!

word count: 2.6k (i *might* have gotten carried away i'm so sorry lol)

a/n: this is a sequel to late night and also based on this, so thanks @keziahcore ! your mind is literally everything!

it’s almost like a sixth sense.

rafe feels your absence from the bed, and immediately becomes agitated. he turns on the lamp next to his bed and looks for any sign that you’re still there, and finds your small handbag on the armchair, which makes him just slightly relieved. 

when he looks at the clock, he sees that it is almost two in the morning. the bathroom door is ajar and the lights are off, which means you’re not there. before he can leave his room looking for you, you return, holding a glass of water, wearing only his shirt to cover yourself up.

“where were you? why did you leave me here?”

he can’t control this agony, this anguish that always catches him off guard when he finds himself alone. he can’t help feeling like a time bomb, ready to explode at any moment. the smallest things you do seem to trigger him massively, and he hates that. he hates that he ends up being rude and harsh to you, because you’re always so understanding and sweet.

even he knows he doesn’t deserve you.

“i was thirsty and went downstairs to drink some water.” your tone is sweet and calm, which makes him feel like shit.

his face changes, as he seems to calm down. you didn’t leave him, you just went to get some water. you’re there, your stuff is there, you’re not going anywhere.

“next time, leave a glass here. i don’t like it when you do that.” he says in a much softer tone, but he’s still upset that his sleep got interrupted.

“do what? get hydrated?” you joke, trying to lighten up his mood.

he rolls his eyes and huffs. don’t make him tell the truth.

“go back to bed. i’m tired, alright? i had a long day.”

“actually, i was going to read a book. i’m not sleepy and i don’t want to lie down right now.”

is it so hard to understand that he wants you to be close to him so that he feels safe enough to get a decent night’s sleep?

“you can read on the bed.”

“you won’t mind the lamp on?”

“no, just get the damn book and come back to bed.”

you laugh and nod, picking up the book from his desk and following him to his bed. rafe gets to his spot and as you sit down, he places one hand on your bare thigh and falls back to sleep almost immediately.

while he dives deep into his necessary rest, you start reading. it’s that book, in cold blood by truman capote. you don’t know if rafe is a reader, he never really talks about books with you.

every once in a while, you look down at your thighs to see his hand, firmly holding you, to make sure you won’t leave. this small gesture makes you feel stupid. stupid to believe he might feel something other than lust for you. rafe makes you question your beliefs and that itself makes you feel overwhelmed.

sometimes you want to leave, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. and you have tried countless times. he’s good for you in the same intensity he’s bad. to say you’re scared to ask him what you are would be an understatement, but you just would like some clarification, because you don’t beg the people you’re casually fucking to stay the night almost every night and throw a tantrum when they leave to get some water.

deep down, you know you’re more scared to hear you’re just an easy fuck. at this point, this would tear you apart.

being with rafe is a challenge. it’s like running a marathon you know you will not get to the finish line, and yet, you keep running.

when it’s almost four in the morning, you close the book and turn the lamp off. finally, sleep comes to you, and you settle into his bed, still holding rafe’s hand, which never left your thigh. with the touch, rafe wakes up, and this time he is no longer agitated.

“sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” you say, as you snuggle into the mattress.

“you- what time is it?” he asks, adorably confused and sleepy.

“it’s almost four.”

“and you’re going to sleep now?”

“yeah. go back to sleep, it’s early.” you say softly, placing a hand on his cheek, and he complies, pulling you close.

(...)

rafe’s alarm clock rings promptly at seven in the morning. he turns it off and goes back to his previous position: hugging you.

your hair smells like coconut and your skin is always soft. he never wants to not be touching you. it’s like your body was made to be next to his. for some reason, just your presence is enough to make him feel calm and at peace.

he places the softest kiss on your shoulder, enjoying the quietness that only early mornings can give him. the sweet sound of birds chirping outside makes him forget about everything else. rafe only has you in his mind (and in his arms).

you wake up and soon turn to face him. rafe has the most adorable sleepy face, and you might never stop melting over him. seeing him up close will never not be amazing. he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. he probably has the most beautiful shade of blue in his eyes.

“go back to sleep.” he whispers.

“‘m not sleepy anymore.” you mumble as you rub your eyes, which rafe finds captivating. “hi.”

“hi,” he smiles. “you only slept for three hours, sleep some more.” he insists, and you feel a tone of concern in his voice, but maybe it’s just your sleep giving you that impression.

“i’m okay, rafey.”

rafey. he hates that stupid nickname, but when it comes out of your mouth, he wants to legally change his name to it.

“you’re gonna be tired.”

“no, i’m not. i don’t normally sleep a lot.”

rafe frowns not because he’s confused - he obviously isn’t. he’s just not liking what you’re saying. he doesn’t like the idea of you struggling with whatever that may be. rafe knows damn well how bad it is to be sleep deprived, he doesn’t want you going through that.

“you have insomnia?”

“i guess i do,” you shrug. “i don’t really know. i just don’t sleep a lot. i wish i did, though. i get so jealous when i see you sleeping for hours on end.” you smile sweetly at him. “you’re so relaxed. must be nice…”

you let go of rafe after leaving a timid kiss on his lips, and stretch before getting up and going to his bathroom to start your morning routine.

after a quiet breakfast, rafe gives you a ride home, and he can’t hide his concern about what you said.

“i’ll see you around, yeah?” you tell him, with the sweetest smile you always have.

“of course. uh, about that sleep thing… if you need help with that… i’m here.”

“rafe, i think you might be a sex addict.” you joke, really not understanding what he meant. he isn’t talking about sex. the one time he isn’t talking about sex, you don’t get it.

“well, i’m just one call away.”

you chuckle and intend to kiss his cheek, but rafe is quick enough to turn his face and make you kiss his lips. you laugh at his antics.

silly rafe is your favorite. if only other people got to see this side of him.

he watches you leave his car and get inside your home. the strange feeling of loneliness comes back almost immediately, but it gets him thinking. it has to be some sort of irony that the person that quite literally helps him sleep isn’t sleeping.

(...)

only two days have passed and rafe already needs you to spend the night at his house again. he is so tired and exhausted. he takes out his phone and quickly types a message.

rafe: are u busy right now? can i pick u up?

you don’t tend to take long to respond to his texts, but this time, an hour goes by and nothing, so rafe starts to feel that unbearable anguish again, and starts to think that you left him and that you found someone better to spend you time with.

impulsively, rafe facetimes you, and you answer. from your face alone, he can see the tiredness in your eyes. or rather, in your dark circles. you’re in your bedroom, which makes him feel calmer.

“hi, rafey. sorry, i just got my phone.”

“what are you doing?”

“i’m studying for my exams.”

“i just wanted to know if i could pick you up.”

“i’d love to,” you smile. “but it’s not a good idea, i need to study and i have a mountain of books to read until tomorrow if i want a good grade, which i do.”

“you’re tired, you should rest.” he advises, visibly worried.

“nothing a can of red bull can’t fix.” you say showing him the can.

“y/n, please go to sleep.”

something about his request makes you angry. maybe it’s the stress, or the fact that this time rafe is right.

“rafe, you’re not my boss. i need to hang up, i got shit to do.”

before he can protest, you hang up the call, and surprisingly, rafe doesn’t get angry. this is what it’s like when he’s sleep deprived.

as always, rafe wants to take control of the situation, so he puts on a hoodie, grabs his car keys and leaves his house to go to yours. it’s late at night, and rafe knows your parents are probably asleep.

the path is short, and soon he arrives in front of your house and the light is on in your bedroom, which tells him that you are still up. carefully, rafe gets out of his car and walks to the back of your residence, and climbs the wall, always making sure he doesn’t get caught by anyone. finally, rafe gets on the small balcony of your room and sees you surrounded by papers, books and notebooks. it’s a mess.

he knocks on the glass door, which startles you, but you soon calm down when you see it’s him. you almost run to open the door, but your face isn’t the happiest.

“what are you doing here, rafe?”

“nice to see you, too.” he ironizes as he steps inside your bedroom. “i have a proposition for you.”

“i’m so not in the mood, rafe…”

“listen to me.” he says. “i’ll… i’ll help you out with this stuff, as long as you let me help you sleep.”

“i don’t wanna have sex.”

“i’m not talking about sex.”

oh.

“you mean… sleep? like, really sleep?”

“yeah. i don’t like that you sleep so little. you’re becoming cranky.”

you chuckle at the last bit. you can’t stay mad at him, can you?

“that’s a nice offer, rafe, but what do you know about biology?”

“i’ll have you know i was a good student.” he pouts and you laugh. “even if i don’t know what you’re studying, i’ll help you out.”

it takes you a few seconds, but it’s decided. your body is about to give out, you really need to rest. you can’t absorb any more information. a good sleep might even help you learn whatever you need.

“okay.”

rafe smiles and it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

you begin to organize all your notes and books on your desk and rafe begins to undress down to his underwear, and gets comfortable on your bed. he realizes this is his first time sleeping on your bed, and he already likes the faint smell of rosemary that your bedroom exudes.

you have such a pretty bedroom. the walls are painted in the softest shade of blue, and you have books everywhere. no wonder you’re so smart, you read a lot.

the wooden furniture gives an earthy feel to your room, contrasting with the delicacy of the light blue walls. in the photos of the small mural on the wall, rafe realizes that he wanted to be there, present in the photos, and maybe, in a photo with you. you are always smiling and being hugged by someone, or hugging them. you are like that, you are magnetic.

you finish organizing your things and quickly change into a shirt of rafe’s that you hope he doesn’t recognize. it’s big and comfortable, and it makes you feel close to him when he’s far away.

the lamp next to your bed is on, so you turn off the main light in your room and go to your bed, meeting rafe, and he has the smallest smile on his lips. it’s ironic how having sex and being naked doesn’t feel as intimate as simply sleeping together does.

“are your parents home?” he asks.

“no, why?”

“so i could have come through the door, huh.”

“yeah.” you laugh.

a brief moment of silence sits between you two, as you’re staring at each other’s eyes. rafe is mesmerized and terrified at the same time. this - whatever this is - feels so nice and so foreign. he knows damn well he isn’t one to want to just sleep with someone, let alone climb up a wall to just sleep with someone.

rafe cameron is in love, and he is utterly terrified.

“what are you thinking?” you ask in a whisper.

your blinks are getting slower and slower. rafe begins to run his hand through your hair, combing them back, and touching the skin of your neck and shoulders ever so softly.

thinking about how much i want to be with you and how fucking scared i am.

“nothin’. close your eyes.”

you do, not because he told you to, but because you couldn’t keep them open any longer. 

why do you feel the safest with someone as dangerous as rafe cameron? someone who deals with the shadiest people around, that has anger issues and violent behavior.

that tried to drown his own sister.

why none of that matters when you’re in his arms? are you actually insane?

probably.

(...)

as soon as you wake up, you see your bed empty, and rafe’s clothes are no longer on the floor, where he had left them last night. it was to be expected, but you still feel disappointed. he was so sweet last night.

when you look at the clock, it’s already past nine in the morning, which means you’ve slept, surprisingly, eight hours straight. damn, you really were sleep deprived.

the sound of your stomach begging for food makes you get out of bed.

when you leave your bedroom, you hear the sound of the tv on and get scared. slowly, without making any noise, you go down the stairs, trying to find out if your house has been invaded, but it would be strange, as it is daytime. soon you see rafe walking around your house.

he didn’t leave?

it’s like you’re not even there. you get to watch rafe make himself comfortable in your kitchen, looking for stuff to put on the table. there are two delivery bags on the counter, which means he bought food, but the gesture warms your heart, which was merely shattered.

“the cutlery is in the second drawer next to the sink.” you say, startling him a bit.

“jesus. can you, i don’t know, announce you’re in the room? i almost dropped your coffee.”

you laugh.

“sorry, rafey. what are you doing, i thought you had left.”

“uh, i bought breakfast for y- us.” he says. you look inside the bags and you can tell he ordered possibly everything you have eaten from that place. “c’mon, i ordered that vegan shit you like, your coffee and even a pretzel.”

you follow him to the table and you both begin helping yourselves. this isn’t your first time having breakfast with him, but it does feel like it’s a first.

for the first time, you don’t want to leave him.

i love feedback! let me know your thoughts! <3

[darnell-la]

Could you write mean!dom Bellamy Blake waiting for the reader to tire herself out after throwing a tantrum and then punishing her for it? Thank you so much!! 🥰

note: we almost forgot how rude and cocky Bellamy Blake is. that man is somehting else…

———

“Do your best, princess,” Bellamy said as he watched y/n struggle against the restraints he put her in. “C’mon, baby, it shouldn’t be that hard,” he continued to tease her as she struggled.

He had the young lady naked and tied so tight, her skin began to burn. Maybe if she didn’t walk around, flirting with Finn, she wouldn’t be like this.

“As soon as we get a nice place to sleep in, you wanna sneak around with Finn. I thought you better then that,” Bellamy said as he enjoyed watching the tears stream from her eyes.

“I didn’t flirt with me! H-He showed me secrets rooms, that’s all. I swear!” Y/n said as she continued to try her best to get free, but it wasn’t looking well for her.

“Oh, yeah, of course — He only showed you paintings. Then made you a painting, ain’t that somehtin,” y/n knew it looked bad, but she swore she wanted nothing from Finn. He was just a good and fun friend to explore with.

“I-I’m sorry, just, stop this,” y/n felt embarrassed as Bellamy got up from the chair he’s been sitting in for almost an hour. “Stop what? I can’t let you go anywhere,” the look Bellamy had, frightened y/n, but this was her fault.

“Y-You’re so mean,” y/n said, knowing Bellamy was teasing her to see her cry. He always did, but that was her fault for putting herself in a situation like this almost every week.

“Oh, really?” Bellamy asked as he saw y/n’s one hand getting loose. “Yes!” She yelled at him right before she got her hand out. She quickly began to get her other hand free, then went to her feet.

Bellamy told her almost an hour again to calm down, and maybe he’d let her go. Now she’s getting free herself, and he’ll let her — Only for a couple of seconds, thought.

Right as y/n got free, she got up and went to run towards the bathroom, but he lunged on the bed and pulled her into him. “C’mere,” Bellamy voice echoed through her head as he pinned her to the bed.

“Just look at you — A fuckin’ brat. You think because you’re a pretty little thing, that I won’t ruin you? Huh!?” Y/n has never seen Bellamy this upset at her before.

“Get off of me! I hate you!” She yelled, but it was all a lie. They both knew it, but Bellamy was willing to act. “Oh, yeah — You hate me? Well, I’m going to make you hate me more,”

Bellamy moved and pulled himself out of his pants faster than she could think. At first, she thought he leaned up to get off of her, but after she felt him right back on her, she knew she was in for something tonight.

“No- I’m done with this. I’m done!” Y/n said, feeling embarrassed that she doesn’t sound serious enough for him to believe her. “Yeah, you’re so done with me tonight,”

Bellamy chuckled in y/n’s ear as he pushed into her, filling her to the hilt. “So done,” Bellamy breathed out as he felt her clinch around her multiple times. He knew she needed him as soon as he tied her down.

“Bell,” y/n whined as her back arched. Bellamy pushed her waist down to force her to keep her back on the bed, as his free hand snaked around her neck. “Take it, and maybe I’ll forgive you,”

Before you/n could argue against what the man was angry about today, he snapped his hips, fucking into her harder than she knew he could.

Y/n’s eyes rolled back as her mouth slacked, letting Bellamy know she was close. “Can he do this to you? Can he get this pussy goin?” Y/n shook her head no, but he didn’t believe her. He was pretty sure she cheated at least once.

“Let’s go ask him after this,”

[lemonlover1110]

𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐭

Satoru Gojo & Suguru Getou

[Chapter 8] After Dinner

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader x Suguru Getou

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Happy to co-host Gojo NSFW Week 2023! Come join us on Twitter!

When Satoru and Utahime finally step out of the house, you slam the front door shut. You begin to walk to your room, and your husband can tell that you’re pissed at him. It’s not like you’re trying to hide it. Suguru follows behind you, thinking of what to say.

“Honey… Don’t be mad at me, please.” He begins, raising his voice so he makes sure that you hear him. Apparently you don’t hear him, or well, at least you ignore him. You get to the bedroom and you slam the door shut, right in his face. The man should’ve known better, this isn’t the first time you throw a tantrum over one of his comments. He opens the door and barges into the room, “I know that you’re upset, but don’t you ever slam the door in my face again.”

“Or what?” Your voice reveals your annoyance, and the man has to take a deep breath to compose himself. Or nothing. He’s not going to do anything. At this moment he realizes how much he’s spoiled you. “Leave me alone, Suguru. Go back to work so you can cover my next shopping spree.”

“Honey… I’m sorry. I admit it was my fault. I shouldn’t have said that.” Suguru says, hoping that his apology will calm you down, but it doesn’t seem to help. 

“And you had me apologize to Satoru’s stupid toy?! You’re a son of a bitch.” You yell, trying your best to not make things worse by grabbing objects and throwing them around. You focus on getting undressed. 

“You have an attitude problem…” He mutters, but you hear him loud and clear. You roll your eyes while you bite your tongue, knowing that if you have nothing nice to say, it’s best not to say it. Maybe you don’t care too much about being nice, but you know that if you don’t stop yourself, you’ll start throwing stuff at your husband. “You don’t want her to think that you’re a bitch, no? You want her to think that you’re better than her.”

“No, I want her to know that I’m a bitch so she’ll know not to cross me.” You answer, and he sighs. He takes a seat on his side of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt. “She needs to know when to mind her own business.”

“You’re only mad because she sided with me and not you.” He points out while you walk to the dresser to get your pajamas. You scoff.

“You wouldn’t be defending her if she sided with me. But since she’s so right, you can go fuck her and sleep next to her.” You nonchalantly say, as if the words that leave your lips mean nothing. You put on your pajamas and walk to your bed, laying down. 

“Can’t you just admit that you’re wrong? It’s not like I’ll laugh at you.” Suguru says, and your blood is boiling. You sit up on the bed and glare at him, and he feels it as if you’re shooting daggers. “What?”

“You’re so right, Suguru. You should spend more time working so I can finally decide to start an affair.” You respond and it makes Suguru turn to look at you. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he glares at you. You stand up and begin to go to the bathroom, and your husband stands up as well. “What?”

“You don’t mean that, right?” He questions, and you slightly tilt your head to the side. You end up chuckling before you shake your head, acting as if his best friend wasn’t eating you out an hour ago. “Swear to me that you’ll never have an affair.”

“Why are you so scared?” You question, believing that he’s having an affair of his own. His hand grips your arm, and you see the anger that seethes his eyes. You cry out, telling him, “Suguru, you’re hurting me. Let go.”

“Swear to me that you’ll never cheat on me.” He orders, his voice stern. “Sweat to me that you won’t ever cheat on me. That you won’t look at another man with impure thoughts. That you'll remain faithful to me and only me.”

“Let go of me, Suguru.” You tell him, trying to push him away but he doesn’t let go. “I swear I will never cheat on you!”

“Good.” He lets go of your arm. He kisses your cheek, then his lips go up to your ear. “You had me scared for a second. When you stepped in, I was relieved. You took way too long with Satoru.”

“You’re absurd, Suguru. You really don’t believe in your own best friend?” You respond, feeling a cold sweat covering your body but you manage to mask your fear. You end up rolling your eyes, “Not even your own wife, nonetheless.”

“I believe in you. That’s why I didn’t prohibit you from being alone with each other, because if I thought otherwise, you two wouldn’t even be able to look at each other.” He says, and you bite your bottom lip as you come to the realization that your husband is more jealous than you thought. 

“You don’t have to worry about me having an affair.” You try to conceal your nerves, and you do a great job at it. He kisses your cheek again, and his lips are once again on your ear.

“Good. Because if I find out otherwise, I might just kill you.��� You manage to push him away and you strike his cheek. 

“What the hell is wrong with you? What kind of shit is that to say to your fucking wife? You’ve lost your fucking mind, Suguru.” You push him away and slam the bathroom door shut. You’re completely sure that he’s lost his mind.

It’s something that you’ve never noticed before. Sure, he’s gotten jealous, but it’s normal jealousy that you experience as well. But what he said is far from normal jealousy.

The next morning, your husband is surprisingly home, and he’s not working from home. You used to hope for a day like this, where he finally decided to stay home, and not because he has some sort of event later in the day. Yet you don’t want to talk to him. After what he said, you refused to talk to him for the rest of the night, even when he tried to initiate something with you.

“Good morning, honey.”  Suguru greets you, but you don’t respond. You walk past him and head to the kitchen to refill your water bottle. He follows behind you while you refill and drink from your water. He watches you, deciding what he should say. “C’mon, talk to me.”

Instead of making a snarky remark, you stay quiet and look in the fridge for your breakfast. You told the maid to have some fruit salad for you prepared, and luckily enough, she listened. 

“You can’t be that mad. If you know you won’t cheat–” He begins and you cut him off as you put the container down on the counter.

“Get it through your thick skull: you don’t ever threaten your wife to kill her. What kind of psycho are you?” You question. “When you’re fucking sticking it in your se–”

“I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean that. I was just…” He interrupts you before you can finish your sentence, and while you don’t like it when you’re interrupted, you appreciate it this time. “I’m sorry. I just got really jealous.”

He walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you, hugging you from behind. He kisses your cheek. “I’m so sorry, baby. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“It’s getting really hard to believe you.” You respond. You push his arms away and begin to walk away from him, leaving your breakfast untouched. But he grabs your arm and stops you. He takes a couple of steps towards you to close the bit of distance that you’ve created, before he picks you up and sits you down on the kitchen island. 

“What can I do for you to forgive me?” He asks, his hand caressing your cheek. You bite down your bottom lip, thinking of what he can buy.

“I was thinking… Maybe you can take some time off. We can go to another country and vacation together…” You suggest, and he smiles before nodding in response.

“Maybe we can initiate expanding our family.” He suggests and you push him away, rolling your eyes. 

“I thought I made it very clear that we’re not having kids.” You respond. It’s not something that’s new. You’ve never wanted kids and now that your husband isn’t around as much, you want them even less. “Ugh, you’ve killed my mood. Just buy me another stupid necklace and I’ll forgive you.”

“We should talk more about the kids…” He tells you, making you roll your eyes again. You get off the island and begin to walk away. You decide that you’ll ignore him, until you come to a stop and turn to look at him.

“I’m not going to change my mind about having kids. We discussed this before getting married. Get your shit together.” You say and begin to walk away again, but you come to a stop once again, “Also make sure you get a decent necklace this time. One that’s more expensive than the last one.”

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[insane4fandoms]

*Chasing you down* HOLD UP HOLD ON!! PLEASE MORE CREW+MACK YANDERE WITH CAPTAIN! I GOT 600$ PLEASE 🙏 🙏

(Mark) “Please Captain, I did this all for you..*Dead bodies* You need me, if it wasn’t for me inviting you on the invincible II. Where else would you be without me? “ *Pointing the knife towards you*

(The others) *covered in blood while walking out of the darkness* “Yea Captain you need us... “

(Captain) *slowly backing up “uh”

OR

How would they react if we ran away successfully or manage to die for some reason? >:) (Crew+Mack)

(By the way your now my favourite blog of all time,love your work ❤️)

*snatches the 600 and continues running* YOU’LL GET YOUR MONEY’S WORTH. ILL DO BOTH

If you would die

- First of all.

-Mark would never let you die.

- You’re in a loop after all.

- You can’t really have death as an escape option.

- But let’s just say you did die.

- Mark would be in full denial, baby. That classic “they’re not dead, see?” While holding your body close to him. Never leaving the first stage of grief, and will forever be in denial. No one else can touch you, only him! You’ll wake up soon in his arms, and he’ll kiss you all over.

- Gunther is anger. How dare you just leave them like that?! Although, if you were to get killed by someone else, his anger was now directed towards them. It’s their fault you were gone! Don’t worry Captain, he’ll take care of the problem, but it won’t bring you back.

- Mack is bargaining. You can’t be dead, right?! He still needs you, he didn’t mean for all the things he said to you. He still needs you, he loves you, and he’s sorry he didn’t show it, he just wants you back. He needs you back in his arms.

- Celci is depression. She wished she could’ve ignored the others and kept you frozen, maybe then you would’ve still be here. Be here with her. The ship, the crew, her life… without you, there’s no hope for her anymore. Yet, she’ll try to move on for you, just for you.

- Burt is acceptance. He knows you cannot come back anymore. Not with wormholes, plot convenience, anything. He will mourn for you, the deity of the stars. He’ll not make your death go in vain.

- The whole ship will go down without you. Why did you have to leave them? How selfish can you be to die?

- Wait… Don’t worry now, they’ll find a way to bring you back! At least I’m their own deranged mind they will find a way.

If you would run away

- You’re in space.

- Where would you exactly go?

- No where to hide from your crew, Captain.

- However, you managed to get away, how would they react?

- They wouldn’t even see it as you not loving them and understanding that you

- They would see it as you throwing a tantrum, they would think it’s because you want attention. Why didn’t they see that you were deprived from their love? That’s the only reason why you would act this way!

- Burt will stay on the ship, fluffing pillows and setting blankets for you when you get back. He knows some relaxing techniques to calm you down just in case you’re still in a meltdown mood.

- Gunther would believe you’d been kidnapped, so he’s strapped and loaded with ammo, merely believing that someone else saw how handsome and/or beautiful you were and wanted you for themselves. Why else would you be away from the ship?

- Mack is disappointed in you, saying that this is why you’re not meant to be Captain, and be their protected little lover. You apparently need to understand that you can’t just go on a rebellious phase and do whatever you want. He knows what’s best for you, the whole crew does, so you need to get back in his arms.

- Celci is angry about you running off like a toddler. Your emotions are unpredictable, and she needs to watch over you more to ensure that you won’t cause any more tantrums. “Even if it means keeping them chained, they would understand that what they’re doing is dangerous for them,” She would say.

- Mark… well he’s still delusional as fuck. He squats about how worried he is, whether you would survive without him and the crew, and begs for Celci, Mack, and Gunther to go easy on any punishment they have, because you don’t know better, which is why you need them more.

- They eventually find you, and let’s see how it goes: If you would run when seeing them, they would give chase. Gunther might see it as you playing a game, Celci might see it as you still having a tantrum, Mark might see it as you being scared of a punishment, Mack might see it as you rebelling for attention.

- But it all ends with you getting captured and brought back to the ship. No matter how much you kick and scream, pleading for them to let you go, saying that you don’t love them, their minds are clouded with love and delusions.

- You’re in a cuddle pile with your ‘lovers’, unable to do anything but cry in frustration, wishing you’d had more time to run off. But don’t worry, you’ll be saved soon.

- Unfortunately, it’s by three yandere and delusional aliens. Now, we have Bandit, Allu, and Wug joining the hunt for your love.

[stargazeraldroth]

I do indeed know the Gin Lore!!! If you wanna look yourself, the creator has a blog on tumblr for him and his AUs (Siiversans), and! If you look at Dreemurr-Skelememer’s Gink tag on their blog (which, speaking of, they! Are the creator!!!), they have some cute stuff, too! They even made them an adorable ship child named Sterling, it’s all so cute- And! Gin/Ink is actually canon to the AU, I believe! Though not to Ink’s story, they take care to mind Comyet’s boundaries.

Long story short (though I can try and explain more, if you’d like!), he’s an AU Sans that was on the verge of death as a child, only to be taken in by a spirit (his version of Gaster), and this, he lived! Unfortunately, a single touch of a human would kill him, aaand guess what’s in his AU’s story? Guess what happens to him.

Now, imagine you’re Ink, right? You’ve met someone you’ve fallen in love with, enough so that, in some universes, you have a child together, and he loves you in turn, and it’s great! But he’s going to die. You know he’s going to, it’s in the script, and you can’t interfere, even if it kills you. Even if you hate yourself for it.

(I have many feelings on Gink if you can’t tell-)

Anyways, moving on- I was thinking of rejection sensitive dysphoria, but! Looking up reflex sympathetic dystrophy, I think that could fit, too! I am sorry that you have problems like that, though- I won’t press, but I hope things get better for you soon! As for Ink- He really is going through it here, huh. And of course he wouldn’t believe them- They’ve already lied to him once, and betrayed him in the one of the worst possible ways, how could he ever trust them not to do that again? Of course, they’d argue that they needed to, he doesn’t know what’s best for himself, if he would just trust them this will all be okay! And it’s just. Not a good time.

Oh trust me, you’re good, I also project that onto him and damn near wrote autistic instead of artistic-

I imagine that the period of time after they rescue Ink and before he really starts to let himself heal is just. A lot of Cross carting him around on his back or in a princess carry, and coaxing him into eating or drinking something.

Error is the embodiment of having no idea what the fuck he’s doing when it comes to other people, it’s hilarious and I wish people leaned into that more. And besides! Error has haphephobia, Ink is an artist and likes brushes, clearly this is the best possible solution to the problem!

I do know that clip, and I do believe it would be accurate- Truly, Error is the Godzilla Threshold of the Multiverse (as is Ink, though he’s, uh. Indisposed, at the moment), and it’s only made better by him being. You know. Error. I do agree though, I wish more people used his manbaby, tantrum throwing self without turning him into a martyr or a saint or a god or something. People can write what they want, obviously, but I just.- He’s so fun like this! And I honestly wouldn’t even call him truly evil, either- I’ve always viewed him and Ink and being on opposite ends of the Chaotic Neutral scale, you know? And it also plays into my own, largely divergent forced god AU… But I’ll not get into that (though of course, I can explain a bit if you’d like?), this’ll be long enough, haha. Just! I like talking about this!

Something of a Monkey’s Paw, now wasn’t it? And! Yes, I do believe he doesn’t remember anything from his AU- It really does make things worse for him, the poor guy. He’s suddenly got emotions that he can’t properly process because he isn’t familiar with experiencing them like this, he’s in the worst possible place, and he can’t hope they’ll drain away eventually, because it’s coming from a soul. And hell, who’s to say the Overwrite didn’t edit his soul so that he couldn’t destroy it again? Him dying like that wouldn’t be hat Blue and Dream wanted, after all… As for Broomie… Um. Uuuhhh. Fuck, I’m sorry best brush, maybe Cross or Core rescued it???

I adore the idea of Shattered and Ink together, just. Interacting. In happier, healthier universes, usually, or at least one where Ink isn’t a victim of like, kidnapping, but things like this are Also fun and nice to think about, even if Ink wouldn’t agree (again, the poor guy-). Though it is funny to think that Shattered just. Bundles him up in his tentacles on his back. It’s a funny image to me- But! Humor aside! I’m always a sucker for the idea that AUs and stories being destroyed- Or wrongly edited, in this case- Cause him pain, but even if it didn’t, I think the shock (and emotional pain) would unseat him enough for them to restrain him.

The three of them get locked in the Doodlesphere to the relief of Blue and Dream- Clearly this is the Ideal Protection Scenario! And the dread of Ink- He would like out now, please and thank you creators!!! It’s probably a lot of them chasing him around the islands or space or however you interpret it of the Doodlesphere while he runs screaming and tries to hide.

Nightmare… Man, what would he even be doing, here? Would he feel any pity for Ink, or does he just think this is all hilarious?

I am eagerly awaiting to add Gin/Ink to my list of ships, but I don't know anything about their dynamic. Spill all the juicy, juicy lore that you can, Anon! I probably won't get the chance to actually go looking anytime soon- both because of laziness and other things I actually have to do. But now that you mention it, I think I've actually seen something for Gin before- I don't know if this is part of his story, I think it was more of an Ask thing, but he got deleted by Error or something??? And Ink woke up from it, so it was a nightmare??? Error. My man. My manbaby. One of my favorites. What the hell did you do this time?

Why not give him both, Anon? Why not give him both? I think the rejection one would be the most applicable to this situation, actually, now that I'm thinking back on it.

I love that image. Cross just being a pillar of support for Ink during all of this. Lord knows they could both use someone to truly confide in.

"Error is the embodiment of having no idea what the fuck he's doing when it comes to other people" that's a whole mood. Me too, Error. Me too. Even without the part about other people. I never know or understand what I'm doing, even when it's something I told myself to do lmao. He tries to cheer Ink up with his puppets, to varying degrees of success.

I don't mind people turning him into a god, I'm guilty of that myself, I just get mostly irritated when people make him a saint and make Ink the epitome of all Evil & Sin. Especially because I'm finding more and more people on TikTok who actually believe the Balance and Error's "saintly" behavior is canon to his character (then again, it's TikTok. What did I expect?) Ngl it's getting to the point where I'm questioning if the canon lore changed or not. Like- correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't Error destroy the AUs because he pretty much just... doesn't like them?? He doesn't think they should exist??? I'm not trying to sound like a btch or like I'm trying to control what people write, I would hate myself if I ever became like that, but I do wish I could find more stuff that uses a not-so-righteous Error, y'know? Let my man be in the wrong! Let him throw a temper tantrum! Let him destroy for the sake of it RAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!

(Feel free to talk about your AU if you want to, Anon. I can't promise that I'll give good commentary or anything, but I can listen/read whatever you say!)

Smh Anon, you forget about the real star of this show: Broomie /j. The thing is, Broomie is kinda like Ink's legitimate other half. They've been together since Ink first got splashed with the paints, and it's like an even closer friend than Dream would've been. So for Broomie to suddenly be gone, with no sign of returning... on top of everything else, he basically just had his Best Friend murdered.

Oh yes! I love the idea of Shattered and Ink having a healthy, friendly dynamic! Unfortunately, that does not happen here. Dw Anon, Ink's used to this kind of torment from me. Just ask @lix88888 about it if you're really curious. I'm sure she has a few favorites out of my tormenting episodes. If there was ever a time when Ink was praying for the Creators to have divine intervention, this is it. Every time, he's just gonna get caught because there's nowhere he can escape to. Maybe he can hide for a good while in the beginning, no one knows the Doodlesphere better than he does, but they're going to find him eventually.

Nightmare's basically like us: he's watching all of his go down and eating some popcorn. This is peak comedy to him! And their corruption- especially Dream's! What a twist!

[ficsforeren]

Restrained

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader

Genre: College AU, Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 10K

Summary: Caught having another girl sitting on his lap during a party, your boyfriend, Eren Jaeger tries to make it up to you by being your plaything for the night.

Warnings: rough and unprotected penetrative sex, bondage, daddy kink, reader masturbating while Eren watches, cunnilingus, blow job, hand job, recorded while performing oral sex, overstimulation, cum play, choking, dirty talk, use of marijuana, heavy swearing, dom!reader, bratty sub!eren

AN: Wrote this for my best girl, Lauren @ackersune! Sorry it took me so long to do your request, darling, but I hope you'll like this one (this is probably the filthiest sex scene I've ever written 🥵I'm so sorry)

Poster art by the most talented @rainbuniart (follow her on Twitter)

When you told him, “Eren, I don’t think I can hang out with you tonight. My assignment is due on Monday and I still have a lot of things I need to work on,” you felt awful, partially because a) you haven’t been properly spending time together with him in the last two weeks because of that so-called assignment, b) you’ve missed him terribly to the point you started noticing how many words in your textbook were pronounced like his name (barren, marron, heron), and c) he seemed surprisingly cool about it even when you had promised him that you’d go see a movie together with him tonight.

Usually, when you cancel your plans with him, he would be grousing and fuming about it for days like a child. A week ago, for example, he was throwing tantrums in the hallway of your dorm. “I can’t believe you blew me off like that,” he complained with the biggest pout on his face. “I was really looking forward to our date last night, you know. I was ready to buy you flowers, flavored condoms, and everything. And Toblerones, so it was a pretty serious thing for me.”

“But you hadn’t bought them, right?”

“Yeah, well, I was about to.” He rolled his eyes. “Babe, you’re missing the point!”

“I said I’m sorry.”

He averted his gaze, muttering. “Easy for you to say.”

“Eren, for the third time, it wasn’t like we had a reservation at some fancy restaurant or anything. We were just going to order some take-out and watch a movie together at your place.”

He was practically puffing out his cheeks at this point. “I was looking forward to what comes after that.”

“And what is that?”

Jutting out his lower lip even further, he grumbled under his breath. “Me bending you over the table and fucking you from behind.”

“Hmm, figured.”

It was both cute, sweet, and slightly disgusting at the same time but Eren had always been like this from day one and this playful side of him was what made him so endearing (although your roommate Annie would probably make a whole PowerPoint presentation to prove you that no, he’s not endearing, he’s the most gigantic imbecile the world has ever known). Honestly, it even made you feel special too, in some ways, as he never behaved like this in front of anyone else. This childish, more honest, and mischievous side of him was only for your eyes to see and your lips to kiss.

That was a week ago, and just this evening you did the same thing to him again.

You expected him to go, “Damn it, babe, you’ve canceled our plans for like, what, seven times already?” (It was only the second time but Eren could be a little dramatic sometimes). “And for the same reason?! I mean, I have papers to work on too, but I’d never ditch you like this!”

But that was in your head. Because in reality, he only went, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not… upset about it?”

“Do you want me to be upset about it?”

“Err… No, but I thought you’d be—” You stopped yourself just in time. This was a good thing, right? You could work on your assignment without having your boyfriend seethe on the other side of your phone call. “Well, okay, then. I guess we can hang out tomorrow night? I can stay over at your place.”

“Cool.”

“Or you can stay at mine. Annie won’t be here.”

“Sure.”

You waited. You didn’t know what you wanted him to say but you waited. He wasn’t treating you coldly. His tone was light and casual, but for someone who usually spoke a minimum of ten words in a sentence, this was weird. When you could only hear silence from the other line, you restrained yourself from breaking into a heavy sigh. “So…” you tarried, a little bit unsettled with how uncharacteristically calm he was being. “What are your plans for the night, then?”

“Don’t know.”

“M-maybe you could go and meet up with the boys? It’s been a while since you hang out with them, right? I heard Jean is having a party tonight at his house.”

“You want me to go to the party?”

Honestly? You didn’t. Not if he was going there without you. “Sure,” you added a fake smile, even when you knew he couldn’t see it. “I feel really bad about canceling our plans. Go have a boys' night out or something—if that’s even a thing. I’m sure you’ll have fun.”

There was a pause. Somewhere in your mind, you could tell he was vexed about it but when you apologized again, he simply said, “Okay,” which somehow made him sound like he was not okay with it, but at the same time, you couldn’t force him to say what he truly felt if he didn’t want to. The last time you forced him to speak his thoughts, he snapped at you. He apologized right away but you sure as hell didn’t want to repeat that mistake.

“What do, uhh, boys even do during a boys' night out?” You chuckled dryly.

“We just look at some porn and jerk each other off, I guess,” Eren answered and you chortled, but he wasn’t laughing with you and yours felt strained. After another few failed attempts at breaking the tension, you decided to end the call. “Well, I gotta return to my papers. Promise me you’ll have fun tonight, okay?”

“Okay.”

His okay started to grow a little bit worrying and irritating in your ears. “Bye, Rennie.”

“Bye, babe.”

“I miss yo—” Eren cut off the call before you could finish your line, leaving you staring at your phone screen with knitted eyebrows. Your stomach swirled, your heart lying heavily inside your chest. You tossed your phone back to the desk and you sighed. He’s definitely upset.

That was around five hours ago, and during those five hours, you could barely concentrate on your work. You kept thinking about him, kept trying to figure out whether his okay was just a facade to make you feel okay, though, in the end, it just only made you feel ten times worse. You only managed to write two more pages for your thesis and they were nowhere near perfect. Shutting down your MacBook, you sigh, I’m gonna have to revise them again later.

Eren is at the party. You can tell because Armin just posted a new story on his Instagram account and you could see your boyfriend sitting on the edge of the table with his eyes filled with boredom, sipping beer from his red plastic cup. Armin, Marco, and Frans are shouting random things at the camera, slurring their words because unlike Eren who can handle his alcohol pretty well, they’re already smashed after their fourth cup. He’s just chilling in the background, his legs dangling a few inches off the floor. When Armin shouted at him to say hi, he just raised his middle finger in the air and flashed it to the camera.

It’s obvious that he’s not enjoying the party as he should. And you know that he would’ve had much more fun if you were there. Can’t stand it any longer, you decide to take a quick shower, put some light make-up on and dress yourself in your favorite top and jeans. You don’t send him a text to let him know that you’re going to Jean’s party, thinking that it would be better to just show up and surprise your boyfriend with a kiss.

Just about an hour later, you’re walking past Jean’s front door, welcomed by the scent of sweat mixed with booze, cigarettes, with a splash of something that will definitely give you a headache tomorrow morning. The music is loud, too loud, but people are dancing to it with laughs and giggles like their ears aren’t about to burst in any given seconds.

You break past the crowds, moving from one couple to another, grimacing at the sight of them practically fucking on the dance floor. You’re getting dizzy, your eyes trying to scan the room under the flickering party lights, your body keeps being pushed here and there by people who spilled their drinks all over the carpet. You’re about to stop and take a breather when you see someone sporting his usual jacket and man-bun, sitting on a couch with his legs spread.

And a half-naked girl sitting on top of his lap.

Your heart plummets to your stomach, shriveling at the sight. Historia Reiss, you recall her name, one of the most popular girls in your campus, dressed in nothing but a skimpy silk tank top and a short skirt that rides up her thighs. Her backside is practically exposed, showcasing porcelain-like milky skin. She’s sitting on one of his thighs, her arm naturally winding around your boyfriend’s shoulders for support, tossing her luscious hair back to showcase her cleavage. Her beauty is stunning, to the point that you would’ve mistaken her as a model if it wasn’t because of her short height.

Eren, with the silver piercing on his ear glinting under the spectrum of light, has his eyes barely opened when she twirls her manicured fingers around his key-shaped pendant—fingers that, you’re sure, are just itching to rake their way down his back later tonight. He has a joint resting in one hand, the scent of marijuana filling the air. He brings the roll up to his lips, taking another long huff before he draws it away. The petite girl curls her fingers around his wrist and drags his hand closer, taking a drag from his joint, maintaining eye contact as she does it. Eren watches with hazy eyes, entranced by the way she effortlessly does it, blowing out air with her head thrown back so he can marvel at the column of her throat. When she giggles, a little smile breaks upon his lips. “Good?” He asks.

“Oh, the best,” she sighs, flirtatious and sensual. “Do it again.” You can somehow make out the words she said and Eren brings the joint closer to her lips but she shakes her head. “You know what I mean.”

When realization washes over him, it washes over you too. And when he draws his joint to his lips, sucking a breath, that does it.

You turn around on your heels; anger and jealousy scratching their claws against your insides, making you feel nauseous and disgusted at the sight that you have no other choice but to leave. As you make your way out, your head’s too shrouded by the thoughts of him that you can barely pay attention to anything else, you bump against a girl. She shouts at you, loud enough for Eren—who’s sitting just a couple of meters away from where you’re standing—to hear. He catches sight of you before you leave, eyes widening in surprise before he pushes Historia off his lap. Ignoring her protest, he jumps back to his feet, chasing after you.

You can hear your name being called repeatedly, but you play deaf. It’s such a huge fucking mistake coming over here and you know you’re going to feel even much worse if you stay even a minute longer. But when Eren catches your wrist, his fingers firm and strong around you, what else can you do?

“Baby,” he says, a little out of breath but other than that, nothing else seems unusual. “I didn’t realize you came. You should’ve let me know—”

“So you can do what?” You whirl around, facing him with a scowl. “So you could be more secretive? Take her to the bedroom and fuck her behind my back?” A voice in your head tells you that you're just being dramatic. It’s very unlikely for him to cheat on you, is it? But after working yourself for days trying to finish your thesis, all this exasperation building inside, it’s hard for you to not be dramatic.

“What?” He’s not offended, not insulted by the tone you’re using. He’s just genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

You open your mouth, ready to shout at him with this anger building up inside but you don’t want to cause a scene. It’s just not worth it. You’re not going to make your life look like a sappy scene from a teen drama more than it already does. So, instead of explaining, you simply mutter, “I’m going home,” as you turn around and walk away. You snatch your phone from your pocket, ready to call for a cab to pick you up when he tries to steal your attention back.

“Let me take you then,” he says, moving to stand before you, blocking your path. “I’m about to head back to the dorm too.”

“I’m just gonna take a cab.”

“Babe, seriously, what the hell is going on?” He almost whines in frustration, acting like he didn’t just have a girl sitting on his lap with her hands on his body, about to do the same thing he did once with you when he took you to your first frat party. “Talk to me, please.”

You can’t. Not now. But Eren gathers your face in his hands, lifting it so he can lock your gazes. “Baby,” he turns gentler, his breath tastes like alcohol and weed. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”

Whatever I did, I’m sorry? You repeat with disgust in your head. Never had an apology sounded so infuriating in your ears before. You take a hold of his wrist, leaning away from his touch. And with a quiver in your voice, coming from uncontainable rage instead of sadness, you tell him:

“Stay away from me.”

***

You’re being immature, you know that. You don’t like him when he gives you a silent treatment but you’re doing the same thing to him now. For three days you’ve been ignoring his calls. You haven’t read his texts. You pretend like you don’t hear him when he shouts your name in the crowd. You try to avoid him as best as you can in the hallways. Hell, you even ask Annie to tell him that you’re not in the dorm even when you’re curling up on your bed. But of course, you can’t avoid him forever.

When he goes all the way to pick you up after your study session with friends ended, asking you to grab some coffee together, you feel bad and unfair. You wish you could talk to him, but every time you see his face, you just remember the way Historia was perched so casually on his lap as if they had done that a million times before. Did they use to date? Or do they just casually hook up at parties? God, you don’t even want to start thinking about that.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a forced smile. “But I’m tired. I’m just gonna go back to my dorm and get some sleep.”

Eren is starting to lose his patience, you can tell, but he tries his best not to display any sentiment on his face. “I’m walking you there.”

“Eren—”

“I insist.”

The pressure in his voice makes you sigh, and you let him do what he wants. It feels like you’re walking ten feet apart from each other even when your knuckles almost brush. Eren grinds his jaw, fighting the chaos of his emotions. He doesn’t speak a word and neither do you. You thought it would make you feel relieved, but it didn’t. You only feel worse.

“Is Annie here?” he asks when you’re rummaging your bag to find your key.

“No. She’s with Armin.”

“Then we should talk.”

Defeated, you let out a weary sigh. “Fine.” You push your door open and let him in.

He walks in first, turning around to face you. He looks handsome today, more so than usual as he had a presentation to do earlier this afternoon. He’s wearing all black from head to toe. His button-down shirt has three of his top buttons unfastened, showcasing a glimpse of sun-kissed skin and his toned chest. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the veins in his arms protuberant. His dark jeans hug his thighs perfectly, accentuating his long legs. Eren wears his hair loose, the ends of his long silky strands brushing against his shoulders.

The second you close the door behind you, he cuts to the chase. “Okay, this is starting to drive me crazy, so I’m gonna ask you this and you’re gonna stop doing whatever it is you’re doing right now and talk to me. Can we do that, please?”

You drag your eyes away from him, leaning your back against the front door.

“What did I do wrong?” he questions, already turning restive when you don’t utter a word. “I know you’re pissed at me but I’ve been spending the last three days trying to rewind everything that happened between us and I still don’t know what the hell is going on.”

God, give me patience. “I saw you at the party,” you utter with a blank face. “With a girl.”

“With a girl?” He knits his eyebrows together. “What do you mean with a girl? I went there alone.”

That’s it. He can play dumb as much as he wants but you’re not having it. “Historia Reiss, you asshole!”

For a moment, his furrow turns deeper, scrutinizing you with confusion in his eyes, but then—

He laughs.

For some reason, Eren is laughing like a fucking child, full of mirth, guffawing even. And he continues to do so even when you’re throwing ice daggers with your eyes.

“What is so funny?” You don’t raise your voice, you just let your anger speak through your tone.

“Nothing, it’s just—” He takes a deep breath, hoping it would stop him from cackling like a mad man. His body may stop shaking from laughter, but the little smile on his lips remains and it irks you just as much. “You’re being so ridiculous right now.”

“Excuse me?” A muscle in your jaw twitches, just like the vein that almost pops on your forehead. “I’m being ridiculous?”

“Yes,” he almost laughs again, but thankfully—and fortunately for him—he manages to stop himself at the last second. “It’s ridiculous that you’re jealous of her. She’s gay, babe.” His grin turns wider when he notices you blinking in surprise. “She’s not into boys.”

Okay, what? If it’s true, then you’re absolutely ashamed of yourself for jumping to a conclusion like that. But then again— “She doesn’t look like that when you had your face glued to her neck the other night.”

“I was just talking to her. The music was loud—”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

He doesn’t like it when you cut him off, but he doesn’t comment on it. “Fine. You don’t believe me?” He sticks his hand inside the back pocket of his jeans, snatching his phone. “Here, you can look at my texts.”

You snort, throwing your face to the side. “I don’t want to read your texts.”

He takes a few strides forward, closing the gap between you. He shows you his phone screen, his voice turning gentle. “Just read them.”

Still scowling at him, you let out a harsh breath, taking the phone away from his fingers. You’re looking at his Discord chats, where he’s been exchanging direct messages with the same blond girl under the username RoyalQueen_Historia. Your eyes immediately move from one text to another, your thumb sliding up the screen to scroll down to his earlier messages.

Eren, oh my God, Historia said in her text. Those tips you gave me at the party the other day? THEY WORKED!

“Tips?” You ask with a frown. “You gave her some tips?”

Oblivious to your thoughts, he cheekily grins. “I did.”

“About what?”

“Oral sex.”

“You taught her how to suck a dick?” Naturally, your mind starts inventing scenarios of Eren telling Historia to go down on her knees, his hand tugging at the roots of her hair as he slides his cock in and out of her mouth, telling her to do this and that to maximize his pleasure. You don’t feel like reading his chats anymore, but Eren keeps his haughty smirk displayed on his face.

“Go on,” he suggests. Fear is absent in his eyes. “Read some more and you’ll find out.”

With your mouth set in a hard line, you do as you’re told, only to find yourself turning flustered for the next three seconds.

They were talking about her performing cunnilingus on her girlfriend, Ymir.

Holy shit, Eren, she went INSANE when I went down on her last night. No wonder your girlfriend fucking loves you. I can’t wait to try your other tips later today. You’re a lifesaver.

You’re stupefied, clutching on his phone with both hands as you read her last text.

“Yeah, see?” He simpers. “She’s gay.”

Now that you look at it—your thumb tapping on her profile to take a closer look at her display picture—you can see a photo of her sharing a kiss with a girl who has freckles on her cheeks. Their lips as they touch are noticeably curving up into smiles.

Oh, wow, okay, she really is a lesbian. And so, you feel relieved, but only for a few seconds before you realize something.

Fuck.

With a little gulp, you look up at him. Eren’s puckish grin has returned, his chin tilting up pompously. “I mean, I could be mean and make fun of you about this,” he sneers, taking his phone away and tossing it to your bed. “But since I’m a good boyfriend, I won’t do it.”

You exhale heavily through your nose. It's stupid. This is stupid. You’re stupid. You know you should say sorry but somehow your dignity won’t let you.

“Wait, what did you say?” Eren inclines his face to the side, his hand cupping his ear as if to hear you better when you haven’t said a single word. “You said you’re sorry? Aww, baby, you don’t have to. I know you didn’t mean what you said.”

You almost snarl at him. His childish side has returned and he’s as annoying as ever. “I will apologize for this, yes,” you say through gritted teeth. “But I still have my reasons to be mad at you.”

His smile slips. “What do you mean?”

God, you can’t believe you have to explain this to him but your boyfriend can be so laid-back and insensitive sometimes. “Okay, let’s imagine for a sec. You know Floch is gay, right? Now, imagine me sitting on his lap at a party, my hand around his shoulders, sharing joints. Asking him to fucking blew smoke into my mouth. How would you feel about it?”

There’s no amusement on his face. If anything, a scowl starts to form. “Historia and I did not do that.”

“Eren, I saw her telling you to do it.”

“Did you see me doing it?”

You loosen up your scarf. Somehow, it’s starting to feel a bit hot. “Well… No.”

“Yeah, cause you ran off after that.” He rolls his eyes. “Babe, she wasn’t asking me to blow smoke into her mouth. She wanted to see me do my party trick.”

“What party trick?”

“Making smoke rings with my mouth,” he admits rather bashfully as if he knew just how pathetic it sounded. “Look, Historia and I have been friends since kindergarten, okay? We do stupid shits together.”

“How come I’ve never seen you before with her, then?”

“Because I’d rather spend my time with you!” He almost shouts, frustrated. “And you keep blowing me off!”

His sudden burst startles you. “I wasn’t blowing you off.”

“I know. I know you had some stuff to do but—” He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Look,” he tries again, both his tone and his gaze are much softer this time. “I don’t want us to fight.”

Even if you try to be tough, you can’t help but melt a little from his words. Tucking your chin, you mumble, “I don’t want us to fight either.”

There are a few seconds that pass by with both of you staying reticent. Then Eren takes the final step, your bodies are mere inches away from one another. He lays one hand on the door, right beside your head. His other one finds your chin, angling your face upward. Your eyes peer into his viridian ones, his lips only a breath away when he whispers, “Do you miss me?”

You do. You missed him every second when he wasn’t here. You missed him even when you fought. You miss him even more now as he is so close and yet feels so far. “I do,” you breathe out. His smile is delicate when he hears your words and he presses your temples together. The fingers that were trapping your chin, have now moved to frame your jaw, lightly brushing your cheekbone before he tucks your hair behind your ear.

“Tell me how much?” He asks, tilting his head slightly to the side like a little boy.

You pout. “Are you messing with me?”

“No,” he chuckles once. “I just want to hear you say the words. It’s been a while since you told me you missed me. Or loved me.”

There’s a hint of shyness in his voice, and you realize that he’s not teasing you. He genuinely misses the way you sound when you tell him I miss you. Misses the way your lips move when you speak the words I love you. Misses the way your gaze turns affectionate when he whispers the words back followed by your name.

Eren really, really misses you, probably more than you miss him.

And to be fair, no matter what excuses you have, you did blow him off. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, standing on your toes to meet his lips in a brief kiss. “For not spending time with you. And for… doubting you like this.”

“No, like you said, you had your reasons.” A tender smile graces his lips. “I mean, right now, I’m still upset over the thought of you sitting on that dumbass Ken doll’s lap.”

You giggle. “You’re ridiculous.”

“God, how much I’ve missed hearing you laugh like this.” He brushes his lips against your forehead, making you smile as you feel your heart warm up. “How about I make it up to you?”

“I’m not gonna have sex with you, if that’s what you’re offering,” you reply, to both of your dismay, really.

“Why not?”

“‘Cause Annie can come back here any second.”

“We’ll tell her to wait outside.” He lowers his head, his nose skimming against the skin of your neck. “I haven’t touched you in two weeks, baby. I need to feel you again.” He moves to your ear, clamping his lips around your lobe. “Need to feel you around me.” The way his breath caresses your skin makes you shiver. “Need to feel how tight you are.”

And he’s back to being the tantalizing demon that he is, speaking breathily against your ear because he knows just how sexy he sounds when he does it. That little mmm when he nibbles on your shell isn’t helping either.

You lay a hand on his chest, pushing him away. “Jesus, you can’t just say stuff like that.”

He snickers, tapping his index finger against your nose. “You seem to enjoy it.”

“Oh, shut up.” You swat his hand away. “What can you offer me anyway?”

“Hmm…” He pretends to ruminate but the naughtiness in his eyes never falters. Then, his hand finds his belt, fingers toying with the strap before he unclasps it. “How about we use this?”

“You want to tie me up?” You almost groan. “You’re kidding, right? The last time you did that to me, I ended up with bruises all over my body, so, no. As great as it was, I’m too tired to do it again. And I have a presentation to do tomorrow. I don’t want my hickeys stealing the spotlight again, thank you very much.”

“Well, maybe it’s time for you to get your revenge.” As you frown, his smirk turns wider. He unbuttons his shirt all the way down, keeping his eyes on you as he does it. You try to keep a straight face as your eyes wander to his sculpted chest, the ridges of his abdomens are just as ravishing as the last time you saw them.

“What do you mean?”

“I want you to tie me up.”

Okay, so obviously you did not see that coming. Eren has always been the dominant one in bed, sometimes even going too overboard with his fingers wrapped around your neck and his teeth sinking into your shoulder. You weren’t kidding when you said the last time he bound your hands together in a motel room, he left your body with bruises, painted by his lips and teeth, formed by how tightly he gripped onto your hips as he took you from behind.

So, hearing him say the words tie me up almost feels surreal.

This is probably just a trick, you snort. “You’re just gonna complain halfway.”

“Well, true, I do like tying you up better,” he snickers. “Why don’t we make it a game, then? If you can make me beg for you to release my hands, I’ll do your assignments for a week.”

It’s tempting. Very tempting, as he is one of the smartest kids on your campus even when he’s only been giving a minimum effort so far. “And what if I can’t?”

“Well…” Placing both hands on the wall, each one on each side of your head, Eren presses his hips against yours, grinding as if you were two strangers losing themselves over a drink in a nightclub. Your heart throbs when you feel the tent in his pants. It’s been a while since you both were this intimate. You can feel his breath caressing your cheek, the intoxicating scent of his bergamot perfume making your head swirl. “We’re gonna go on a trip this weekend.” He lazily drags his fingertips from your cheekbones to your jaw. “I’ll book a nice hotel for two days.”

He’s now tracing over the pulsating vein in your neck, making you swallow your breath. “A-and then what?”

“I’m not gonna let you fucking leave, that’s for sure.” He bites his lower lip, his eyes turning half-lidded, glazed with lust. “And I won’t just tie you up, baby.” His hand cups the front of your throat, giving you a light squeeze just for a taste. His lips are brushing against your ear, his low moan reverberating when he plants a wet kiss on the spot below it. “Won’t stop even if you beg me either.” He chuckles in satisfaction when he feels you shivering a little underneath his touch. “I’m gonna ruin you, fuck you until you cry. I want to fuck you until you can't walk or talk, or fucking see straight. I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you'll feel like you can’t breathe.” He separates his mouth to suck hard on the side of your neck, teeth grinding against it until a bruise blooms beautifully on your skin. “I’ll keep fucking you until you pass out on my bed, voice hoarse from screaming out my name. I’m gonna use you, baby girl, every inch of you as I please.”

His words are magic spells and it’s frightening how easily you succumb to him when he’s like this. If he wants it, Eren can tug on your strings like a marionette. He can make you say the words he wants to hear, make you arch your back with his thrust, bend you over and fold your body in half as if you’re his sex doll.

“But,” he coos, taking a step away to let you breathe. “I won’t do that just yet. Like I said, I’m gonna make it up to you.”

Eren unties his belt, looping the end once through the buckle, stopping midway, before looping back, forming a figure 8. Then he places his wrists in each loop, grabbing the end of the belt with his teeth and tugging tightly until each loop is snug around his wrists. He releases the belt from his lips, mischief clouding his features, the impishness of his smirk surpasses the devil himself. “I’m all yours for the night, baby.” He presents his wrists to you in surrender. “Mark me up and use me as you will.”

You never considered yourself as a shy person, though you did have a few moments of weakness where his words got to your head and burned your cheeks with them. But you’re not easily flustered, always confident with your body. And when you have a lover telling you how pretty you are every time you get together, his lips appreciating every inch of your skin like you’re a piece of art, there’s no reason for you to feel insecure.

But tonight… Tonight, you’re more brazen than ever.

“Hmm, is that so?” Your smirk matches his when you step forward and slant your lips together. It starts light as you’re both still smiling into the kiss, but once they falter, tongues dart out to dance in the gap between your mouths before you plunge yours inside his hot cavern. Eren groans against the kiss, realizing that it’s not the taste of your lip gloss that he misses, it’s the taste of your mouth. Your hands are sliding up his chest, pushing down the fabric off his shirt just a little until they hang loose on his shoulders.

He grunts when he feels your nails clawing against his skin, raking them down from his collarbone to the middle of his stomach until he’s all marred with red lines. Your hands drift down to his belt, unfastening it from around his wrists. He breaks the kiss, asking you with a questioning brow. “You’re not gonna tie me up?”

You don’t answer him, only winding one arm around his neck, pulling him down to you to share yet another kiss. Eren guides you toward the bed, his body pushing forward until the back of your knee knocks against your bed. You know he wants you to lie down and spread your legs for him, but you don’t give him the satisfaction. You have his belt in one hand, your lips mapping their way down from his throat to the middle of his chest before you drive him away.

“On your knees.”

There’s something in your tone—reek with confidence and superiority—that staggers him for the first two seconds. “What?”

“You want to make it up to me, right?” You remind him with a sultry heat in your eyes. “Kneel.”

He doesn’t know what you’re planning to do just yet, but he obeys because whatever it is you have in your head, he knows he’ll love it.

Eren goes down to his knees, waiting with a little smirk on his face as you circle him. “You can still touch me if I tie you up that way, so���:” You bind his hands together behind his back, tightening his belt around his wrists and tugging on it until you witness him flinching. “Too tight, Sweetheart?” You murmur in a low seductive voice that has his body shuddering, but Eren simply chuckles.

“Not tight enough—” The cockiness in his voice vanishes at once when he feels you pulling again, the leather edges of his belt are now digging torturously into his skin. He refrains himself from hissing in pain.

“There, there.” You give him a cute peck on the top of his head before you move to stand before him once again. “Bear with me, okay, Rennie? It will only be a little while.” But once a thought fleets through your head, a Cheshire Cat grin paints your lips. “Well, actually, it depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“How fast you make me cum.”

That provocative look in your eyes, the way you’re staring down at him like you’re his queen and he’s nothing but your slave, it touches him on a level that makes breathing damn near impossible. But you haven’t even started yet.

You undress in front of him, peeling your clothes one by one as if you had all the time in the world but Eren feels like his time is running out. The more skin you expose to his eyes, the more he grows impatient, his blood pressure rising to dangerous proportions. Once you’ve left in nothing but your lingerie, you take a seat on the edge of your bed, spreading your legs wide apart. His eyes traverse down your body, watching you slide two fingers above your clothed heat.

“Now, sit back and watch,” you croon with your chin tilted up, your fingers pushing your panties to the side. You spread open your lips, letting him catch a glimpse of your protruding clit. “I’m gonna remind you just how much you miss me.”

***

“God, baby…” Eren doesn’t mean his words to slip out in a form of a breathy sigh that’s sketched with nothing but yearning. But now that they've departed from his lips, he just wishes you don’t hear them. He doesn't want you to know just how hopeless he is right now. But who is he kidding, really? Even if you didn’t catch his words, his face is filled with that intense desire that threatens his last vestige of control. He needs you and it shows.

But of course, you did. You heard him well. And you love it.

Eren is losing his mind.

He’s still kneeling on the floor, keeping his mouth shut as he observes you with both eyes wide open, just as he's ordered to. He may look obedient right now, but you know the second you unbind him, he’s going to use his belt on you like last time. The bed is high enough for his mouth to pleasure you with ease in that position, but you keep your distance. You’re not going to let him touch you, not yet.

Now that your lingerie has been cast aside, the sight of your beautiful, naked body evokes a myriad of sinful thoughts and bombard him with primal hunger. You’ve never done this before, never gone all the way seducing him like a devil luring an angel to fall from heaven. But Eren wants to fall, doesn’t he? He’s already falling.

The belt around his wrists feels like it’s sinking a millimeter lower into his skin every time he tries to break free. The pain reminds him to stay put, but it doesn’t wash away his craving. If anything, it just makes his blood boil, wanting to tear you apart.

Because look at you. Sitting with your legs wide open at the edge of your bed, your bottom lip tucked irresistibly between your teeth, your heavy gaze consuming him. You have one hand pressed against the sheets behind you, propping you up as you draw obscene circles on your clit. Keeping your eyes locked together, you probe your digits against your entrance, just taking a few of your juices before you raise them to your lips. Eren’s throat feels parched when he watches you push your fingers inside, wishing you were thrusting them inside his mouth instead. Hollowing your cheeks around them, you suck and lap every bit of your taste off your fingers. Now that they're lubricated with enough saliva, you bring them back to your heat.

When he asked you to tie him up, Eren didn’t think you were going to be such a fucking tease. He expected you to go down on him, to bounce on his lap as you fuck yourself and cum on his cock. He didn’t plan to go through this torture, as exhilarating as it is.

He pitches his voice low. “Baby.”

Your confidence transforms your face, making you look ten times more enchanting. Even with two of your fingers scissoring deep inside you, you show no hint of shyness. You’re a succubus and he is your prey, trapped under your spell and dazed from your charm. “Hmm?” Your voice is dripping with allure, melodious when you speak. “What is it, Rennie?” You bring your free hand to your chest, squeezing your left mound. You’re performing a show, maintaining eye contact before he locks his gaze at the way you’re pumping your fingers inside you. “Like what you see?”

So much, it knocks all senses away from his head. Eren swears under his breath, his eyes turning half-lidded, brimming with lust. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

“I know.” The naughtiness in your voice makes his cock twitch inside his jeans.

It’s like you were possessed. The devil’s inside you, controlling you. You’re overflowing with confidence, your expression is obscene and Eren would think about you for months after this with his hand around his cock, picturing this exact face of yours behind his lids as he thrust into his fist.

“Let me touch you,” he says, not yet pleading but close. “I want to make you cum.”

“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” you interrupt yourself with a moan, throwing your head back as you lift your hips slightly in the air, rocking yourself against your fingers. He feels like he's watching the filthiest porn, only this time, he's not allowed to enjoy it. “You can’t touch me with your hands like that, can you? Let alone make me cum.”

“Is that a challenge?” It astonishes you that he still has the strength to curve up his lips into a smirk. “Why don’t you be a good girl and beg Daddy to fuck you nicely with his tongue?”

You snort. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“What, too scared?” His smile turns coquettish. “The last time I used my mouth on you, you came in, like, what, five minutes? It was almost embarrassing, Sweetheart.”

You almost roll your eyes. It seems like you need to work a lot harder to break him apart.

But the truth is, that was his last straw on trying to act cocky. And seeing you unfazed by his words only frustrates him even more. The second you return to ignoring him, touching yourself as you please, Eren realizes that he’s been dancing on the palm of your hands from the start. He knows you want him to lose the bet, and God, he’s never wanted to lose this much in his life, which is strange as he’s a very competitive person to begin with. But doing your assignments for a week? When he already has his own to deal with? And keeping up with your constant mockery? Really?

“Eren, look.” With one hand hooked around your thigh to keep your legs as far apart as you can, you retract your fingers away from your entrance only to spread your lower lips. “Can you see it?”

His heart elevates to his throat and he tries to swallow it back with a big gulp. He can see it. Can see your slick dripping out of your heat, can see your hole twitching as you clench and unclench your walls around nothing. “It’s missing your cock, baby,” you say.

A whine almost escapes him. “Fuck, just come here and ride me, baby.” He doesn’t care if he sounds desperate. He is desperate. “I want you—I need you so bad.”

Now, that’s more like it, you think gleefully to yourself. “Oh, you do? I didn’t notice that.”

Every tease comes out so effortlessly that it vexes him even more. His jeans are tight, so tight especially when his member is throbbing with every thrust of your fingers inside your cunt. He wants nothing more than to have your hands working on his zipper, breaking him free out of his confinement only for you to take it inside your mouth.

You can laugh all you want, but your patience has its own limit too. He’s not the only one who misses how good it feels when your bodies are connected, especially when you've been separated this long. “Fine,” you huff, sliding your fingers out of you. They're soaked, glistening under the fluorescent light. Stepping down the bed and kneeling in front of him to match his line of vision, you smear your juices on his face by dragging your fingers from his jaw to his cheek before you slip them past his lips. “Come on,” you taunt him. “Clean them up.”

Releasing a heavy breath through his nose, Eren sucks on your fingers, moaning lowly on your taste. You slide them out, letting him swirl his tongue around your tips before you push them back in. “Good boy.” Your velvety voice offers no comfort, only causing his impatience to race through him. You shift your hand down to his jeans, cupping his bulge. He almost whimpers at the sensation. Fuck, he’s so aroused it’s not even funny that the slightest of your touch feels like a fucking blessing to him.

“Oh my,” you fake a gasp. “Eren, you’re so hard down here. You should’ve let me know.”

“I’m gonna make you pay for this,” he hisses back but the second you stroke him again, the venom on his tone turns pathetic. "Baby—"

“Aaw,” you pout, batting your eyelashes cutely at his whine. “Didn’t you say that this was my chance to get my revenge?”

Eren’s entire brain has shut down. With a harsh grunt, he snaps, “Damn it, enough with the teasing. You can’t keep—”

You slap a palm over his mouth, leaving him stunned. "I can." His eyes largen, surprised at the way your honeyed voice suddenly turns perilous. “Keep running your mouth like that and I’m not gonna let you cum,” you utter, ending the pressure in your sentence with a conceited smile. “You got that, baby?”

Eren watches you without a word when you unfasten your hair tie from your wrist, still too shocked to form one. “As much as I love seeing you with your hair down.” You reach forward to gather his strands in your hands, tying his luscious locks up in a messy bun. “I don’t want it to get in the way.”

Of what? He wonders, but he gets his answer the second you rise back to your feet. Your cunt is just a few inches away from his face. All he has to do to get a sliver of your taste is tilt his head up slightly and dart out his tongue. “You want me to sit on your cock?” You place your hand at the back of his skull, guiding him forward. “You better warm me up.”

His stomach flips at your words—no, your command. You’ve never been this controlling, never been this demanding and dominating and he thought he would hate it, as it was supposed to be his role to play, but now that he finds himself quite literally kneeling and begging for you to fuck him, he realizes that there’s only one thing that courses through his veins.

Thrill.

It feels humiliating at first when his realization dawns on him. Am I a fucking masochist? He shouts internally but he’ll never let you know his thoughts. It’s not just your words that electrified him, it’s the way you said them. God, you look like a goddess right now. And it's only right for him to worship you.

He starts by placing a kiss on your clit, waiting for your reaction but you give him none. He parts his lips, the sweet, tight-lipped kiss is now replaced by a wet, open-mouthed one. “Stick out your tongue,” you say, grabbing a handful of his bun, and he follows. You grind on it, rubbing your heat against his face, the tip of his nose grazing your clit one second and your pelvis on the next one. “Keep your eyes on me.”

Eren’s emerald eyes move to yours, drooping as he feels your wetness coating his tongue. He can’t speak, you don’t give him the chance to. For a moment, you continue moving your hips, driving yourself to the edge and driving him to the brink of his sanity. He’s making a mess—well, you both are. His saliva is dripping down his chin, mixed with your juices.

When you release him to let him catch his breath, Eren finally surrenders. “Untie me.”

“Oh?” Your smirk returns instantly. “You want me to release your hands?”

“Yes,” he snarls through gritted teeth.

“Hmm, let me think about it for a sec.” You bend down, your face hovering right above his as you gather him in your hands. “No.”

His jaw drops, baffled. “What?! I thought we've agreed that you'd release me if I said the words—”

“Yes, but you’re good with your tongue, aren’t you?” Eren’s eyes glint, aroused by the degrading look on your face. “Can make me cum in five minutes, you said? Well, here you go.” You push his head back toward you again, causing him to let out a sharp breath when his nose is pushing against your pelvis. “Better start working on your magic before I lose my patience.”

Your hand is on his head, fingers fisting his strands and messing up his bun. He groans at the way you’re tugging on his roots, his sound muffled by your skin. Sighing in content, you raise one leg in the air and place your foot on the bed so he can reach more of your skin.

“Play with my clit,” you tell him. You know he doesn’t need your guide. You’re just saying the words because you know how much it will drive him insane.

Eren, given no other choice, follows your every word. He has your sensitive nub pressing against his tongue as he clamps his mouth fully on your heat. He sucks on your clit, making you hiss in pleasure. “Again,” you gasp, “Do it again. Feels so good, Ren.”

After being mocked consistently, your praise sparks fire in the pit of his stomach. He’s never seen this side of you before—this beautiful woman in front of him, begging for his touch but at the same time, owning every control over him.

“I want to make you fucking squirt on my face,” he says, dragging his lips to your inner thigh, biting and suckling hard on the soft skin until it’s bruised before he returns to lap on your juices. “Untie me and I’ll do it within seconds with my fingers.”

“Make me cum with your mouth first,” you taunt in return. “Then you can touch me.”

The way he almost growls when he says his next words light your skin on fire. “Spread that fucking cunt wider then.”

“Sure,” you say, but to his surprise, you plop down to the bed, parting your legs to showcase your swollen clit. He grins, it’s easier to eat you out like this, as he doesn’t have to keep his face toward the ceiling. But when he’s about to lower his head, you push him away with your feet pressing against his chest. His forehead creases in confusion. “Beg,” you vocalize, your toes playing with his necklace. “Say: ‘baby, please, let me fuck you with my tongue.’”

Fuck your mouth upside-down, bend you over in an abandoned classroom, maybe even take you from behind and press your nude body against the window of a hotel room where people can see—Eren has already come up with multiple scenarios on how to make you pay for this but right now, he just has to bear with it. “Baby, please,” he mimics, but his tone is unsatisfying.

“I’m sure you can do better.” You snigger. “Come on, darling. Put your heart into it.”

He bites back his anger but his eyes still gleam dangerously as his patience runs thin. “Baby, please.”

“Please what?”

“Please, let me fuck you with my tongue.”

“Good boy." You lay yourself down on the bed, hooking your arms under your thighs, pulling up your legs. “I’m all yours, Ren.”

Eren doesn’t wait for even a second to pass. He doesn’t play around anymore, changing pace from slow to fast without waiting for you to adjust. You moan, fingers buried deep in his hair, holding the back of his head as you move your hips to grind against his face.

He runs his tongue, flicking up and down your folds in a way that is so obscene, you feel like you have to shift your gaze away. But you don't. You commit every bit of his expression into his memory, probably take a picture of him if you can.

Wait.

Now, that's an idea.

With your hand on his head, you push him away, making him wince at the way you're yanking at his bun. "Just a moment, baby." You reach over to snatch his iPhone from the bed. Swiping your thumb along his screen, you aim the camera at his face.

"Smile for the camera," you purr. Eren, although he was taken aback at first, is never one to shy away. He loves watching himself pleasure you. Hearing you moan from his touch boosts up his self-esteem. It's only for you and him anyway, right? You and your dripping wet pussy would look so perfect in his gallery.

So he smirks and puts on a show. He's so sensual, the way his tongue slips past his front teeth, his little "mmm," every time he clasps his lips and suckles on your clit—he's the depiction of the dirtiest poem you've ever read.

"How do you like the taste, Daddy?"

"I fucking love it." He runs his tongue across his lower lip, looking up to the camera from underneath his long eyelashes. "You're so sweet, baby girl. The sweetest cunt I've ever tasted."

You chortle, mocking and proud.

Keeping his promise, it only takes a moment before you feel your stomach turning warm as your muscles grow taut. When the video has surpassed three minutes long, you decide to stop. You want to focus on him. You need to concentrate on reaching your high. This has been going on for too long.

You cast his phone away, not caring whether you've switched off the camera or not. “Ah, I’m gonna cum. Suck on my clit again.” Your legs are closing in around his head, suffocating him but neither of you cares. “Yeah, fuck, just like that. Eren—” Shockwaves run through you as you let out a shuddering breath. Your fingers are grabbing onto his strands too tightly and he grunts, still lazily moving his tongue as your pleasure ripples through you.

“Oh, God,” you sigh, followed shortly by a string of giggles. “That felt so good.” Propping your body on your elbows, you reach out to stroke his cheek. His chin glistens from your essence, and when you press your thumb against the corner of his mouth, he parts his lips obediently. You can see a glimpse of his tongue, the same one that was inside you a moment ago, and you bite your lip at the sight. “So you are good with your tongue.”

You tug him forward by his collar and reward him with a kiss, messy and breathless. He’s a bit dazed when you pull away but his voice is just as deep and low when he reminds you, “Untie me.”

“You wanna cum, Rennie?”

“Yes.”

“Aaw, too bad…” You jut out your lower lip. “'Cause I just did and now I feel kinda tired.”

He didn't find it humiliating to be recorded with his tongue inside your heat, but you're ridiculing him like this? His dignity is shattered and it shows on his face. “You are not gonna leave me like this.”

You arch an eyebrow at his tone. “See, I don’t think that’s the right way to ask someone a favor.” You can go on forever like this but knowing how he can be a bit resentful sometimes, torturing him any further than this will only give him more reason for him to be even merciless with you in bed. Not that it’s a bad idea, but—“Well, I guess I can’t give my lovely boyfriend a case of blue balls now, can I? Sit on the bed.”

“You’re not gonna untie me first?”

“Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

His cock spasms at the way you say your line, so bossy and arrogant. Yanking him up by his necklace, treating him like a dog on a leash, you push him down until he’s perched on the edge of your bed. You kneel on the carpeted floor, settling yourself between his legs. Unzipping his jeans, you pull the fabric and his underwear low enough until his cock springs free. It’s leaking pre-cum, twitching when he feels your heavy gaze on it. Eren nearly whimpers when you give him lazy strokes, his leg muscles tightening. It’s like he hasn’t been touched for years. “Want my mouth on you, baby?” You question him with a smirk, your breath caressing his tip with every word.

His jaw grows slack, his chest heaving up and down. “Yes, please.”

He’s much more submissive now, you realize, probably because you’re finally giving him what he wants. You hum, running your tongue across your lower lip. You lean close, kissing the throbbing vein on the side of his cock, lips brushing ever so lightly.

Suddenly, you circle your fingers around him again and you run your hand up and down his length, giving him a set of fast pumps that steals a startled gasp from his mouth. "Ah—wait—stop—"

He tries to shake away from your grip but you keep him still, spitting onto his cock so you can glide your hand more easily. "Baby—Baby, please wait—" His body jerks and flinches, his eyebrows stitched together as he feels his climax closing in. He doesn't want to finish yet, not like this, but when you're moving your hand like that, you're robbing his choices away. "Shit, shit, shit, baby—I'm gonna cum—"

Fuck, he's ready. He doesn't care anymore. Everything just feels so good. He can fuck you again in a few minutes, he just needs to cum now. And he's there, standing on the edge, ready to have his orgasm wash over him like the storm but it never does.

Because you stop. You retract your hand at once, leaving his cock standing and twitching in the air. His mouth falls open, his chest heaving up and down with his black shirt sliding off his shoulders.

"God, look at that face." You jibe at the sight of him looking so wrecked and disappointed. If you didn't know him any better, you might even think he was about to cry. "How do you like being edged, Daddy?"

Never in his life has ever felt this urge to take a fistful of your hair, shove his cock inside your mouth, and fuck you deep until you gag and choke all over his length, doing it over and over without sparing you any mercy even if you beg him to stop with tears in your eyes. God, you can be so infuriating sometimes. "You're having fun?" he asks you, cold and menacing.

"I'm having the best day of my life." But you apologize to him by twining your hand around his cock again, applying a gentle kiss on his head. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again. Here, let me make it up to you." You part your lips, taking him in but only the tip. You let him feel just a bit of your warmth, the slickness of your tongue that’s pressed flat against his muscle. You plan to tease but Eren is not having it. He bucks his hips forward so abruptly, thrusting into your mouth and you choke, taken by surprise. Growling back at him, you press one hand against his thigh, another one on his stomach, keeping him in place. You break away with a pop, a thick rope of saliva connecting your mouth to his dick. Eren groans in vexation, so loudly, you’re sure the students next door can hear it.

“Who told you to move?” You glare at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

He throws his head back, emitting a sound between a grunt and a whine. “Fucking hell, you’re—” You harshly cover his mouth with your hand. “Mmph?!”

Keeping your palm glued to his face, you climb on his lap. You settle down with your knees on the bed, trapping his thighs between yours. You retract your hand only to shut him up with your lips, pillaging his mouth with so much vigor, he can barely keep up. "You're so damn impatient." Curling your fingers around his cock, you align his tip against your entrance.

He moans, louder than he’s ever been and you’re grateful that you’re there to muffle it down. No matter how many times you’ve done this with him, Eren is still the largest man you’ve ever had, stretching and filling you in a way that makes you keen. You grab hold of him in reflex, teeth grinding to refrain yourself from making noises.

The way you're shuddering makes him realize that you're in a bit of pain. Breathlessly, as he watches the way your face contort in discomfort, he asks, “You okay?” It's odd, even for him, how he felt so aggravated a moment ago, to the point that he wanted to lash out, and now he's like this, his face twisting in concern.

“Yeah, just—“ You try to move. Even with how drenched you are, there’s still a stinging pain as you wait for yourself to adjust. “It’s been a while.”

With you being this close to him, your chests squeezed together, Eren can feel your heartbeat hammering against your rib cages. “I won’t move, so…” He makes sure to let his lips brush against your forehead when he whispers. “Take as much time as you need.”

The sudden change in his attitude almost makes you laugh. “Didn’t you say you wanted to fuck me until I cry earlier?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m trying to be nice, and this is what I get?”

“I hate when you’re being nice.” You dip your head down to speak the words against the side of his throat. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t suit—"

You sink your teeth at the spot that connects his neck to his shoulder, pushing his shirt down until the fabric pools around his elbows. You do it right at the same time you work yourself on his dick, sliding almost all the way up before you take him to the hilt once more. Eren hisses in both pain and pleasure, the muscles in his stomach contracted as he feels his skin burned and marked. You try to soothe it down by planting a tender kiss, doing it several times until he can feel your smirk forming.

“You wanted me to mark you up, didn’t you?” You whisper against his ear, tugging his earlobe gently between your teeth. “Now everyone can see who owns you.”

“I still have one presentation to do tomorrow,” he grumbles but there’s no fury in his voice. If anything, he seems to be thrilled to have your marks on him, as this is the first time you’ve painted love bites on his body.

“Well,” you grind your hips, draping your arms on his shoulders for support. “The more reason why I should do it again, then.”

And you both do it at the same time—you suckling on the supple skin of his neck while he paints purplish bruises on your shoulder. You keep your hips moving, picking up pace and growing desperate with each grind. At one point, you push him down by the center of his chest, his body hitting the sheets when he husks, “Ah, shit, baby, you’re so good.”

“Yeah?” You keep your left hand above his heart to balance yourself as you bounce harder on his lap. “Go on, Daddy. Talk to me.”

“You’re so wet for me. So fucking tight.” He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice the way you have one hand crawling up to his neck, slowly tightening your grip around his throat. “I can feel you—” He stops—no, he can’t finish. Not with the way you’re pressing against his windpipes.

“Feel what?” You lean forward, your hair tickling his cheeks as you move back and forth. “Cat got your tongue, Eren?”

His eyes glint at the word, his smirk resurfacing. “Ah, I love the way you call my name,” he rasps, his voice strained but it only makes him sound even more erotic. “Love the way you choke me.”

The laugh that escapes you is derogatory but Eren loves it. “Seems like you’re not so much of a hard dom, after all,” you scoff.

“I can be whatever you want.” He can feel your walls tightening around him and he throws his head back, eyes closed in rapture. “God, the way you move, baby… Drives me fucking insane.”

His rambling makes you feel the same, just as desperate, just as wild. With labored breathing and sweat breaking on your temple, you ask him with your words laced in urgency. "Are you close?”

“So close,” he moans out, his eyes drifting down to your chest, watching the way your breasts bounce with every snap of your hips. “Ah, I wish I could put my hands on you.”

You wish nothing more, really. It feels wrong to ride him without having his nails sinking into your hips. You just feel incomplete. And you know if you release him right now, he’s going to ram his hips so forcefully into you until you see stars behind your lids. So, what is there to lose?

“Fuck, okay, turn around.” Moving away from his lap, Eren groans at the loss but he rolls to his side, letting you unfasten his belt from his wrists. You feel sorry when you witness the angry circles that blossom on his skin. You can only imagine how painful it is. “Eren, I’m sor—”

He grabs you by the nape, slamming your face down to your pillow. You almost scream, shocked by the sudden friction of his cock against your walls and how hard he’s driving himself into you. “I’ll give you a chance to apologize later,” he says right beside your ear. “I’m gonna make sure you'll say it like your life depends on it.” The fabric of his black shirt caresses the dip of your spine, his necklace resting on the spot between your shoulder blades. “Right now, I’m going to fuck you like you deserve.”

You're biting on the edge of your pillow when his hands slide down past your stomach. He lifts your lower half in the air while keeping your upper body glued to the sheets, allowing him for deeper penetration. Your hair tie slips off his strands, his long hair swaying like branches in the storm with his every thrust.

Eren has both of your wrists pinned against your back, holding them in one hand while he keeps his right one on your shoulder, keeping you in place. “How do you like being tied up, Sweetheart?”

You can’t answer him. He can be as cocky as he wants, you don’t care. He pumps into you, furiously, groaning his own pleasure, taking you hard, building on the shockwaves already coursing through your body and taking you higher. His shirt is still draping around his lower back, his jeans hanging low. His back muscles ripple when he tightens his grip around you, "Whimpering like a little bitch now, aren't you, baby?" He simpers. "After all that teasing you did, in the end, you're still like this, hungry for my cock. But don't worry." He snaps his hips forward, once, twice, to emphasize each word that comes out of his mouth next. "Daddy's gonna fill you up real nice."

It's embarrassing how fast your orgasm hits you, and when it does, it feels like you’re free-falling from the sky.

“That’s it,” he chuckles. “Cum on my fucking cock just like that, baby girl.” His hips rocket back and forth, his face twisting in sweet ecstasy. “Ah, shit, you’re squeezing me so tight.”

His name, along with a string of expletives, comes out as sobs from your mouth, and when he keeps plunging himself hard, they turn into shrieks of pleasure. You always become like this when you’re overstimulated.

It's cruel for him to not give you the chance to ride out your climax slowly, or even take a breath. He's only eager to give you another orgasm that’s just as intense. You're sure your body won’t be able to hold it if that's the case, but thankfully, Eren’s hips turn erratic. “Where do you want me, baby? Want me to cum inside?”

“Yes, Daddy!” You usually only call him that to taunt him, to rile him up so he can be rough with you, but right now you can’t even control what comes out of your mouth.

“Beg then,” he imitates you from earlier. He lets go of your wrists, moving one hand to squeeze your left ass cheek while smacking his palm hard against your other one. “Say: Daddy, please fill me up with your cum.”

You’re clawing against your sheets. Every time he plunges himself deep, it feels like he’s slamming the air out of your lungs. “Fill me up with your cum!”

He clicks his tongue. “You didn’t say please.”

“Daddy, please!”

Your voice—that needy whine from your pretty lips—it feeds his ego so well. Pounding into you with a forceful rhythm, he sends his hot seeds shooting deep within you as his heartbeat thunders deafeningly in his ears. He’s still groaning out a series of profanities when his pace gradually turns slow, and when he’s done, he pulls himself out, sitting on his heels with one hand pushing back his hair. He blows out his cheeks, “Well, fuck,” he laughs in satisfaction, “Not gonna lie, being edged several times today really paid out in the end.”

It takes you a few seconds to answer him, too fucked out of your mind to instantly form a word. “Can you… help me clean up, please?”

“For what?” Eren holds his length in one hand, gliding the side of his cock against the crease of your ass. He plays with the essence that seeps out of you, pushing his tip back and forth into your hole. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He’s fucking his cum back into you, grinding his hips slowly but steady before he lets himself be buried deep inside, sheathed in your warmth. He lies himself down on top of you, the hard shape of his chest compliments your backside. He supports himself up with his elbows on the sheets. “Didn’t I tell you?” He leans closer to let you feel his smirk growing against the shell of your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you until you pass out,” he murmurs. “Probably fuck you in your sleep too, who knows. After what you did to me today, you don’t think Daddy will let you go just like that, do you, baby girl?”

You gulp.

God, save me.

***

Part 2 can be read here!

Huge thanks to my besties Sandra @the-princess-button and Coi @coyloves for giving me inputs and feedback. Sandra even wrote a few lines for me because my english is so terrible and I don't know how to describe the belt thing Eren did with his teeth, so thank you for being an angel I love you both so much ❤️❤️❤️

Tagging:

@l6ffys @vivi-et @halparkebitch @fwess @littlemochi @thebeardedmoon @didiyogo @xximthefoolxx-blog @coyloves @erenbean​ @tehehebri @justasketch @infnteen @naiomiwinchester @spiderlingh @doyochii @ahornyenby @aengelren @sakurashell @the-princess-button @resonancesoul @blrqt @cacapeepee @persyhange @jaegersdiary @cknf69 @erentoes @trashgremlin36 @meed18 @j0livi0ni @snowflake-201 @jaymihawk @eva-gates @claudevonstrukesblog @sofijaeger @rinsie @blanccofiie @ereninbunu @natanialora @khinjito @ackersune @watermelon-online @tropicsoda @claudevonstrukesblog @alexackrman @bblgumz @jurrasicpork @erenjaegercult Thanks for reading, lovelies ❤️

[ky-tumbles]

The Disneyland Trip - Bradley Bradshaw

Before

Bradley had a grip on your waist, he was standing so close there wasn't an inch of you not touching. His head was resting on your shoulder as he viewed the map you held open. Having hit his growth spurt about three months ago, his knees are bent slightly in order to rest his head comfortably.

The hotel lobby is the same as nearly every other one you've been to in your short 14-year-old life. Bradley, having not been to as many in his 16 years, is quite content with the faux fancy look the hotel is going for.

"So if we start in California Adventure today and cover Disney Park tomorrow, we can get to every ride we talked about. Do you think my mom will like that plan?" You ask, eyes turning slightly to look at him.

He simply hums in response, he's just excited your mom even invited him to come too. It’s your world and Bradley is simply living in it.

“We’re doing the Ferris wheel right?” He asks, he’d done his research with his mom. He wanted to most romantic spot in the park to tell you he loved you. Carole had nearly cried at how grown up her baby boy was.

“Of course! Tomorrow night, so we can watch the fireworks,” your enthusiasm has him smiling. He spins you around quickly in his arms, pressing his lips against yours.

They’re soft and supple against yours, his mouth moves and Bradley’s tongue slips across your lips. Your hands travel to his cheeks, pulling him down towards you. His grip on your hips tightens, bodies getting pulled flushed together.

“The hotel lobby?” Your dad’s voice interrupts. “Jesus kids, we’re in public.”

You’d been so wrapped up in each other, you hadn’t noticed the slight look of anger that graced your father’s face. You wouldn’t even notice it until later. His leather jacket clad figure had disappeared further into the lobby to take a phone call. Your mom, you’d assumed, likely running late or dealing with a temper tantrum from one of your half-sisters, who you’d never met but had been told that young spoiled girls like them throw a lot of temper tantrums. (This is what your dad wished for when he thought about your horrible mom and fucking Steve having children, he wished them to be spoiled rotten brats that never behaved just to stick it to Steve)

You pull apart slightly, Bradley not letting you escape his hold. The both of you have shades of embarrassment on your face. Bradley’s ears are tinged red, his telltale sign he’s blushing.

“Sorry dad,” you say sheepishly, stepping out of Bradley’s grip to head towards the car. You slip your hand into his and drag him along. “Is mom meeting us there?”

Your dad sighs, hand coming to rub at the back of his neck. It’s clear he’s distressed. “I’m sorry, pumpkin but she just called and one of the girls is sick. So she won’t be meeting us.”

Your heart drops, you can feel tears forming in your eyes. You don’t even know why the emotion has hit you so hard, you expected nothing less from the woman who didn’t even hold you after you were born.

Bradley can see the emotion on your face, he’s quick to gather you into his arms again. He doesn’t say anything, knowing words can’t help you right now. You nuzzle your head against his chest, pressing your ear flush to him. His heartbeat is steady and it claims you instantly.

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” your dad leans in to press a kiss to your forehead. “We’re still going to Disneyland.”

The statement has both you and Bradley staring at Maverick as if he’s grown a third head. Your father had been insistant on allowing you and your boyfriend time with your mother while he drove down to Miramar to see a certain bartender.

“Are you serious? I thought you didn’t want to go with us?” You ask, standing shocked in front of Bradley.

“I believe your exact words were ‘not going to walk around in a stupid childrens park for two days when I could be on the beach’.” Bradley adds, pointing a finger at your father.

Your dad rolls his eyes dramatically, putting his aviators over his face. “Just get in the car, you two.”

////

The park was incredible. Your dad had shoved his annoyance down and was genuinely having a good time. He’d even gone on a ride with you.

Bradley was having an even better time, most rides he’d gotten you all to himself. He was loving watching your reactions to every single ride.

He’d briefly snuck off while your dad took you towards the Tower of Terror. Bradley had return with matching Mickey Mouse ears, much to your excitement. He’d even posed for every single photo op you’d dragged him to without complaining. Even when your dad started ribbing him for it.

The sun was beginning to set and Bradley could tell you were getting tired. You’re tucked into his side, head starting to lull into his shoulder. Maverick was lingering behind the two of you, ready to head back to the car.

“One more ride, pretty girl?” Brad asks, his arm over your shoulder squeezes you lightly. He’s guiding you towards the Ferris wheel, feeling like he’s already at the top because his plan is working out perfectly.

You just nod, trying to stifle a yawn. The fondness in Bradley’s eyes would be clear a mile away. It makes your dad gag playfully.

“I’ll stay here and wait for you guys,” he says, sitting on the bench closest to the lineup.

Bradley smiles gratefully at Maverick before leading you to the lineup of the Ferris wheel. Bradley feels like his heart might beat out of his chest. There's a quiet comfort in waiting for the Ferris wheel, you're both exhausted and the moment requires no words.

The worker that leads you to your car smiles at you fondly, causing you to blush slightly and hide further in Bradley's arms.

The taller boy laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He lets you sit down first, draping his sweater over your lap before clamouring in beside you.

The moment he's sat beside you, you're cuddled into his side. Your knees press against his and he smiles. The sun is so close to being free of its waking burden and the lingering light makes your smile glow. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and the other rests on your thigh.

The cool air is a welcome distraction from the movement of the Ferris wheel, never having been afraid of heights you have a weird aversion to Ferris wheels. Bradley's touch takes your worry away from the moving wheel and back onto him.

You feel it instantly at that moment. Your heart is completely full. You wouldn't want to experience this with anyone else. Bradley is your forever.

He's gazing out around the park, long dark eyelashes blinking as he scrunches his face up trying to get a better look at your surroundings, and more importantly where your dad sits with a pretty young lady.

You smile as he looks at you, he's about to open his mouth and point out your father's new friend but you beat him to it.

"I love you," you say softly.

His brown eyes widen and his throat goes dry. His heart speeds up.

"You stole my line," he admits sheepishly, taking the hand from your lap and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, your mom kinda told me your plan," you tease, leaning in towards him, lips pursed.

He wastes no time leaning forward to kiss you back. "I love you too."

/////

When your dad had booked the hotel, he had planned to be in Miramar with Penny. Not in the second queen-sized bed that his best friend's 16-year-old was supposed to be sleeping in.

He'd booked a double queen room in order for you and Bradley to not sleep in the same bed. While that may have been his intention, it likely wouldn't have happened anyway.

He's sat up against his pillow, book in hand under the dim lamp light. He's pretty sure both you and Bradley are asleep. Bradley is practically on top of you and it takes all of Maverick's willpower to not kick the teenager out of his daughter's bed.

Bradley's head is on your chest and you can't help the hand that's found its way into his hair. You'd been mostly asleep but the light from your dad's lamp had halted any break from consciousness for you.

"Dad?" you murmur, quietly turning your head towards him. Bradley snores loudly, foot kicking away from you. There's a grin on his face, there always is when he falls asleep in your bed. It happens a lot when your dad is on deployment because Carole can't resist letting young love flourish.

"Pumpkin thought you were sleeping," your dad says, bookmarking his page before setting it on the bedside table.

"I just wanted to say thank you," there's a lump in your throat.

"You know I'd do anything for you, pumpkin," your dad makes eye contact with you.

"I know mom bailed," you say quietly, tears building in your eyes.

Bradley snores loudly again, head moving against your chest. Your hand in his hair moves instinctively, running through the curly locks affectionately.

"I'm glad he makes you happy," your dad replies, it's not that he's dodging the comment about your mom, he just doesn't want to talk about it right now.

You smile at that comment, looking down at Bradley. His face is relaxed and you want to trace the moles and scars that litter his pale skin.

"But if he doesn't stop snoring, I will move him to the bathtub."

Tagging:

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[inriospocket]

Hi Daisy. I hope you had a great day. I’m sorry, I know that requests are closed so I’m sending this for later (i hope that’s okay. I just didn’t want to forget)

But I saw this tweet and it made me think about Rio telling his wife “no” just once, and then she gets all petty, doing everything herself even the little things he do for her like him stopping by her fav bakery to get her some treats because she asked him to. Or even taking her car to get oiled and washed herself when he’s the one who usually do it. Lol like how dare you say no to me after all these years of spoiling me. So you know what? I’ll do everything myself. And maybe Rio gets annoyed because he likes doing things for her & now she’s not even giving him the chance to do that. Only if you want to write it. Thanks either way❤️ you better be drinking your water!

Hey, I hope you've had a great one as well! Requests have been open, I just thought I edited the description so I'm sorry! Also I just got a new water bottle so best believe!! 💛

word count ♡ 727

summary ♡ Rio finally tells reader "no" which is completely foreign to her.

situation ♡ fluffy-ish

warnings ♡ cursing

-

Perks of having Rio as your man, you got everything you wanted; some things you didn’t even know that you wanted. Money to get your hair done? No issues. Weird craving in the middle of the night? He was grabbing his keys, no questions asked.

He was never too tired, and because you always reciprocated the energy, he’d do anything for you until...

“Nah.” Rio told you. It was like a movie scene, the record scratch and multiple cars screeching to a halt.

No? You didn’t know that word. It was not in your vocabulary nor in your mental dictionary.

“What?” You gave him a puzzled look.

“I said no.” He repeatedly, nonchalantly continuing to text his coworkers on his phone.

“Excuse me?” You had to repeat again as if you didn’t hear him the first two times.

“Y/N. We’re not getting a dog.” He said.

You didn’t know what to do with this information. It was so foreign to you. It almost hurt your feelings.

“But...why?” You gave him the most sorrowful look that he chuckled at.

“We already have Marcus running around here crazy, ain’t that enough?” He shrugged.

“So, you’re really saying no?” You asked again as if you didn’t know the answer.

“That’s what I said.” He smirked, thinking of how cute you were when you were upset.

“Bet.” You said, turning on your heels with an attitude. Since he wanted to tell you no, you were just going to do everything yourself from now on.

Was it petty and were you throwing a tantrum? Yes. Did you care? Nope.

“Did you get the oil changed? Why didn’t you ask me to go get it done for you?” Rio asked you the next day.

“I thought you were gonna say no.” You shrugged. He smirked, realizing you were still upset from the day before.

“You hungry?” He asked, pressing a kiss against your cheek. You leaned away from him to prevent his second kiss.

“I got it covered. Didn’t want you to say no to what I wanted to eat.” You continued scrolling on your phone.

He laughed under his breath. “You still mad I won’t let you get a dog?” He asked, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Depends, can we get a dog?” You side eyed him.

“Nah.” He said again and you pushed him off.

“Then I’m mad.” You rolled your eyes and walked away.

He laughed completely this time. “You’re dramatic, mama.”

“It’s okay, I’ll just go fuck myself. No biggie!” You said without turning around.

He brushed it off, figuring you’d get over it soon until anything he tried to do for you, you had already done it.

He loved doing everything for you, getting the car washed, and picking up your favorite snacks or foods. Once you continued doing it all on your own, he started to feel some type of way.

He knew what he had to do although he had already made up his mind it was never going to happen but here he was looking at the puppy he just adopted sitting in the backseat of his car.

He probably stood there for a good 5 minutes calculating how much he really loved you that he got you a puppy.

He finally got his phone out, texting you to come outside. He watched you slowly make your way over to him, arms folded with the same attitude for the past couple of days.

“Would you quit?” He asked, unfolding your arms and holding your hands. You rolled your eyes. “Can I just go back inside?”

He smirked. “Nah, I wanted to show you something.” He said, dragging it out.

“Is it half a million?” You asked.

“I gave you that already. Look in the back.” He nodded his head towards the car.

You opened the car door with a sigh until you saw the exact puppy you wanted from the shelter.

Rio immediately covered his ears once you shrieked with excitement.

“A puppy! Oh, you’re so cute. Come here, baby.” You picked him up.

You cradled him, running your hands through his fluffiness. “I love you already. You’re so cute, and soft, and sweet...” You went on and on, carrying him back to the house completely forgetting about Rio.

He followed after, realizing that you won yet again.

“You’re so damn spoiled!”

[midnightsunnyday]

When With His Father, Diavolo Is A Lot More Stern, The Demon King, On The Other Hand...Part Seven (Final)

A/N: it’s the final conclusion for this series! Thank you all for sticking through it. This has been a fun headcanon to write. I wanted to write the Demon King in my own way, yet would love to see him one day in canon. Either way, I hope you enjoyed this series. Until the next one, stay safe everyone!

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Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

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8:10 PM

Diavolo: before we leave, I suppose we should check up on the...oh.

*Mammon, head occupying the inside of a wall*

*Satan, buried under a bookshelf*

*Belphegor, sprawled out near a broken window*

*Solomon and Asmodeus, outside the window, knocked out and covered in glass*

*Leviathan, tangled on the chandelier*

*Beelzebub, torso jammed between a wooden chair*

Barbatos: Young Master, there you are.

Diavolo: let me guess, father threw yet another one of his tantrums after losing to Lucifer?

Barbatos: indeed.

Diavolo, looking around: though if anything, I'd say this party was an absolute success. This isn't half as bad as the damage he did last time.

Barbatos: Young Master, it is my deepest regret for not tending to you sooner. You were in pain, and I completely disregarded it for my majesty's sake. Had I only been more proactive, I could have prevented such a disaster. I am not worthy of being your butler. I will resign immediately.

Diavolo: well, I wouldn't say I was in pain, yet still, absolutely not! I will not allow you to resign!

Barbatos: but--

Diavolo: --you're my family, Barbatos. I couldn't possibly imagine you leaving my side, not now or ever. Without you I'm not sure what I'd do. So please, don't ever speak those words again.

Barbatos, blushing: Young Master I...thank you.

MC: aww.

Diavolo: now then, what to do about all this?

Barbatos: should we tend to everyone?

Diavolo: well, that depends. Father, are you still cognizant?

The Demon King, slumped over the couch: the fuck is a cognizant?

Diavolo: good. What say you, Lucifer?

Lucifer, flat on his back: where’s my MC? MC. MCCCCCC.

MC, sighing: what?

Lucifer: guess what IIIIII won?

MC: ....Me?

Lucifer, stretching out his arms: yaaaay. Now come...come give me a hug.

MC: no.

Lucifer, pouting: but I want one.

Diavolo: and what about the rest of you? Still holding on?

Everyone: *groans in pain*

Diavolo: well, I believe that settles it. Everyone's fine.

Leviathan: heeeelp.

Diavolo: just fine.

Barbatos: but Young Master--

Diavolo: --Barb, please. The last thing I need after an extensive therapeutic session is to be burdened with unneeded physical and emotional stress.

Barbatos: I beg your pardon?

MC: *clears throat* hi there, "certified" demonic counselor speaking. For the past 72 hours, Lord Diavolo has suffered through extensive psychological stress. Therefore, it is of my "professional opinion" that he, as we humans tend to say, "Fuck it."

Barbatos: I see. Though I am not certain of your qualifications, I do agree that the Young Master has been under a great deal more stress than usual. Though I must admit, this behavior is completely unlike him. Should I be concerned?

Diavolo: of course not. However, I've done nothing but run myself ragged trying to chase after my father. I think being a bit selfish for once won't harm anything. Besides, I'm sure they'll live, considering they're immortal, after all.

Barbatos: if that is what you wish, then I will oblige.

Diavolo: besides, I could really use something to eat.

MC: we still have some food in the kitchen, though it needs to be cooked.

Barbatos: then I will start immediately.

Diavolo: Barbatos, you truly are one of a kind.

Barbatos: and truly, I am humbled by your words.

MC, smiling: good grief.

-----------------

*a few days later*

Barbatos: and?

The Demon King: and that such actions are unbecoming of a king and…oh, come now, do I really need to say all this?

Barbatos: I believe you should, yes.

The Demon King: *rolls eyes* and that it is within my birthright to not only set the standard of what is expected of royalty but maintain it at all times. So in other words…sorry.

Barbatos: very good, Your Majesty.

MC: it’s cool. Also, I don’t mind visiting you at the castle. Just don’t put me in a collar, please.

The Demon King, blushing: very well, little human. I’ll try to compose myself from now on. The same goes for you, sorcerer. I hope the gifts my son provided you are to your liking.

Solomon: very much so, Your Highness. Pegasus blood is especially rare to come by and will do absolute wonders for my spell casting.

Diavolo: let's just hope we haven't sealed our fates with such a gift.

Solomon: rest assured you have nothing to worry about *whispers to MC* when my empire is built, you shall be the first spared.

MC: I call dibs on evil ruler.

Solomon: oh MC, that's the only fun kind of ruler there is.

Diavolo: I heard that.

Barbatos: is there anything you would like to add, Lucifer?

Lucifer, folding his arms: not in the slightest.

MC: please?

Lucifer: …I’m sorry for beating Your Highness at a drinking contest.

MC: and?

Lucifer: and for teasing Di—Diavolo…even if it was hilarious.

MC: that’s as good as it’s gonna get, huh?

Lucifer: I’m the Avatar of Pride. Not the Avatar of Apologizing.

Diavolo, sighing: good enough.

-----------------

*at the House of Lamentation*

Mammon: never again. Not for a million Grimm.

Leviathan: oh, so now you finally have standards.

Satan: crushed under the written word. An ironic fate indeed.

Belphegor: you doing alright there, Beel?

Beelzebub: so many splinters *shivers* I…don’t wanna talk about it.

Asmodeus: I can't believe I was knocked out a window. Thank goodness my perfect skin wasn't scratched or scarred. Poor Solomon, though. A fall like that would've broken every bone in his body...and it did! Good thing he knows magic.

Belphegor: though, isn’t this all technically MC’s fault?

Leviathan: hey, yeah! I can’t believe they just went off with Lord Diavolo and Barbatos and left us like that!

Mammon: I say we torture em’!

Asmodeus: ooh, how about we tie them up in pretty pink ribbons!

Mammon: and make em’ wear a cute, frilly outfit.

Asmodeus: with a tail!

Mammon: and those fluffy cat ears!

Satan: go on.

Belphegor: wait, what do any of those things have to do with torture?

Asmodeus and Mammon: torture what now?

Beelzebub, shaking his head: can we please just get some food and never speak of this moment ever again?

Mammon: and may we also never, ever, ever attend or throw another party for the Demon King.

Belphegor: agreed.

*text notification goes off*

Asmodeus: oh, Lucifer sent a message to the chat. It says, "All of you please make your way towards the castle. The king would like to...throw us an apology party."

Everyone: *groans*

Mammon: welp, spoke too soon. Yet think about it this way, at least we're immortal, right?

Leviathan: Mammon, shut up.

[fcb-mv33]

Honestly I don’t get the hate that Christian actually gets like wtf at least he’s honest about shit, yes he can be problematic but my god so are Toto and Mattia and they don’t get the crap Christian does and Jesus last year Toto was horrendous like some of the stuff he said about max and what happened at sliverstone like wtfff toxic as shit.

Toto is still petty that Redbull snatched Max up before they did 🤷🏼‍♀️😂

As a neutral fan who only just started watching f1 last year but I have a family that are big f1 fans I will call out shit that Is actually stupid and especially being English getting comments for Lewis fans (I live about 1hr away from where he grew up) that live around my area is stupid I’m not a Lewis fan and I won’t be a Lewis fan I only heard of him because of Nicole Scherzinger 😂 and the moaning that my older brother would say about how shit F1 has gotten because of Mercedes dominance, like don’t get me wrong I’m not a fan of George but I honestly prefer him to Lewis. I had a conversation with a bloke on a train about why I’m not a Lewis fan and he called me a bitch that don’t know what she’s talking about 🙃

My mum who’s watched f1 since the early 70s I believe has said at how much Max reminds her of past drivers, my older brother who’s watched it since he was like 5 and now 30 says that max is a great driver, I think I will take advice from them who’s a good driver is then DTS fans or fans who only liked Mercedes because they kept winning thanks 😂😂😂

Mercedes’ and Lewis fans need to grow up and stop believing that people who don’t like Lewis are racist because most are not they don’t like him because of past comments the way he’s come across and the temper tantrums he used to throw when he didn’t win “2016”

“Valtteri it’s James” if Mercedes actually gave Valtteri a chance I very doubt Lewis would be a 7 time champ but instead they put him over for Lewis

Sorry for the rant but people👀 need to start sitting down and shutting up because they are making F1 very similar to international football fandom💀

Oh anon I fully 100% agree. Also fuck that guy for the way he spoke to you just cause you aren’t a Lewis fan. It’s ridiculous lack of respect women who enjoy sports have but then to just say you know nothing cause of who is support is pathetic.

Christian gets a bad rep purely because of how much he defends Max and now Checo. People who dislike Christian dislike him cause of the fact that Pierre and Alex were drop (deservedly) and also because of how he treats Max whihc is also deservedly because Max has worked to be the first team driver and Christian has never been one to hide that in the public.

Then we also have last season when let’s be honest he really had to defend his team and Max….Silverstone was a point where people really got a turn off him even tho toto was the one who said that Max basically deserved a crash like this yet Christian was the bad guy?? Toto last year done a lot worse when it came to the media end compared to Christian and yet Christian is so hated by for what? Defending and loving his driver? Wanting the best team of drivers? He is there to win and some fans cannot seem to understand their drivers simply were not good enough and they blame Christian for that

Also the abuse Max fans get, constantly being called racist is fucking stemming from media blaming everything on Max fans. Are Ferrari fans called sexist or scumbags for what they did last weekend? Absolutely not F1 didn’t even bother to make a statement. Merc and lh fans need to drop the ‘im so great’ attitude soon cause they really are a joke.

[maddiwrites]

Let Me Go

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: This was requested! Y/N still lives with the Cameron’s following the death of her brother, but she’s being held there against her will. After many failed escape attempts, Y/N finally gets out of Figure Eight, but she’s far from safe. (The request was long so I’m going to link it here so you can see the full summary of what anon wanted!)

Note: I’m sorry this took so long to get out!!! I literally had half of it written and then it all deleted and I’m so upset because my first attempt at writing it was better but oh well. I hope you like it. Again, sorry for the long wait!

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: MENTIONS OF DRUG ABUSE, CHILD NEGLECT, GUN VIOLENCE, ATTEMPTED SUICIDE. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THESE TOPICS TRIGGER YOU. PLEASE. SUICIDE HOTLINE: 800-273-8255

Masterlist

You weren’t always like this - sitting up in your unmade bed, staring at the blank wall in front of you like you could see through it, unshowered, trembling from your shoulders down to your toes, feeling empty from the inside out. 

You forget what it’s like to be free. Following the death of your brother, you’ve been trapped like a rat in a cage. Figure Eight is no longer the luxurious part of the island to you. It’s filled with lies, manipulation, secrets, murder. 

You’re still living at the Cameron’s. No, not living. Surviving. Ward refused to give his guardianship of you up. Some people wondered why - why would Ward want to live with the sister of a murderer? Yeah, that’s what they thought - that your brother killed Sheriff Peterkin and tried to kill Ward too. But you knew why.

Ward no longer treats you like a member of his family. He has you locked in your designated room on the third floor that’s basically only used as an attic and storage area. Your own personal prison. Because you know what he did - not only to your brother and his daughter but to your dad. 

You felt like you were losing grasps of reality. You only knew fall was approaching because you could hear Wheezy talking about it to Rose outside your door. You guess the time of day by the sunlight through your window and the meals brought to your room. 

Of course there have been times you tried to escape. You managed to run away a few times. The first time, you went straight to the police station and tried telling them that Ward was keeping you trapped in his home. Of course they didn’t believe you. Instead, they called Ward to come pick you up. He told the police that you’ve been experiencing delusions since the death of your brother. Without a second thought, they believed him and ignored your cries for help completely. The second time, you tried going to Kie’s, but the police found you first and brought you back to Ward’s now that they think you’re going through some kind of mental breakdown. 

By now, you’re exhausted. You’re tired of fighting and arguing and screaming. You feel empty inside, craving some sort of release or embrace of comfort. You haven’t seen your Pogues in weeks, maybe months. You wonder if they still think about you. Do they blame you for leaving John B to go off by himself with Sarah? Do they hate you?

Not only is living inside an enclosed box hard enough, but dealing with the loss of your brother, friend, and father, is killing you inside. You can’t help but feel guilty that you weren’t with them. You and your brother were supposed to be partners in crime and you totally let him go off on his own. You feel like you abandoned him and that keeps you up at night. 

Since your ways of coping are limited, you’re not proud to say you found an unhealthy way of relieving your pain. 

When you were first locked up, you would scream and kick the door that hid you from the rest of the world, begging for anyone in the house to let you go. Never did it work, but one time Rafe got extremely fed up and raced upstairs to make you shut up. You didn’t know it, but Rafe was on the verge of a breakdown himself. His dad complete shut him out as he tried to fix the damage he caused. He assumed Sarah was dead. And Barry basically owned him, making him do all his dirty work. Maybe he deserved it, but he didn’t live a luxurious life either despite living in Figure Eight.

You took a couple steps back when you heard heavy footsteps approaching your door. Rafe quickly undid the locks and barged in so fast that he almost knocked you down. 

“Oh my god. Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Rafe was breathing hard and quickly getting red in the face. You stumbled backwards, suddenly afraid of being alone with him. 

You sniffled. “I need to get out of here.”

“You’re not leaving.”

“Please, Rafe. You got to get me out of here. Please!” You never thought you’d be here, begging Rafe of all people for help. Yet here you were. With no other choices left.

Rafe paced the room and raked his fingers through his hair. “You do realize you're not the only one going through something, right?”

You swallowed back your tears and scoffed at the Kook in front of you. “Seriously? Your family is keeping me locked in here like some kind of zoo animal! My brother is dead -”

“Sarah is too!”

“But that’s not my fault!” You screamed. You pointed an accusatory finger in his direction. “That’s yours!” Rafe froze and turned to look at you. You didn’t know where you grew the balls to keep going but you did. “I know what you did. I know what your dad is trying to cover up. And he’s using my brother to do it.” You saw Rafe’s adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. “Why do you think your dad is keeping me locked in here?”

“Shit,” Rafe cursed. Now he knew why his dad gave him strict instructions to never come up to your room. He started shaking his his head and shaking in his skin. “I didn’t mean to - I - I - it happened so fast.”

You could go on and on about how Rafe would never be able to dig himself out of this hole. How he will never be able to convince you that he wasn’t guilty. But you didn’t. Because he’s the only one who could help you.

“Rafe, please,” You begged. “I won’t say anything. I just need to get out of here.”

Rafe sniffled back his own tears and fears and looked out the one window that looked out into the backyard of his home. He couldn’t let you go. He knew it was selfish, but he had to save himself. 

“I can’t,” Rafe said.

A new wave of tears hit you and you felt defeated. You fell back on your bed and cried into your hands, hunched over above your knees. 

“I’m sorry,” Rafe said, but his apology was as empty as you feel. 

“Just go,” You rubbed your eyes hard enough to see stars. 

You hear something light hit the bed next to you. “I know it’s not much. But this helps me get through all this messed up shit.”

When you didn’t look at him or whatever he gave you, he took that as a hint to leave and quietly left the room. You listened to each lock being fastened again, each one leaving a crack in your heart. 

Rafe offered you something you should have never taken. A small baggie filled with fine white powder. You should have never even considered it. Drugs were never your thing. You wouldn’t even smoke with JJ when he offered a hit of whatever he was smoking. But the idea of anything taking your pain away enticed you.

And that’s how you ended up here. Broken, alone, and craving something only Rafe could supply you with. Literally. He came around every so often, sliding a small baggie under the door for you. It was the closest thing you and Rafe had to a friendship. 

Today was particularly a bad day. It was dark and rainy outside and you remembered John B’s birthday should be quickly approaching. You missed him. God, did you miss him. You would do anything to hear his voice again or steal his clothes or go surfing in the ocean with him. 

You trudged out of bed towards your dresser that held a faint line of coke left over from yesterday. With a one dollar bill, you sniffed the rest of it up your nose and blinked back the sting of tears that pricked your eyes after you did it. A rush of energy sparked up your body, through your toes and up to your head. You immediately felt lighter and that the world was spinning a little faster. But with that rush came a surge of emotions. You went from being sad to being angry real fast. 

You hated Ward. You hated Shoupe. You hated this house.  You hated Kooks. You hated yourself. You hated everything about the Outer banks. You just wanted to leave. 

You find the closest thing to you, a small makeup mirror, and smash it against one of the locks on the door. You’ve done this hundreds of times and by now the door was scratched and bruised from your abuse, but you didn’t care. You didn’t feel the glass of the mirror slice into your skin as you continued to bang it on the metal lock. You didn’t care if Ward and the others heard you throwing another temper tantrum. You just wanted out.

When you felt the lock stumble to the side of the door, you froze in your place. You stared at the broken lock, wondering if this was all a dream or a hallucination from your high. “No fucking way,” You mumbled. You looked down at the door knob and repeated the same movements until the handle completely fell off and clattered to the floor. 

You dropped the mirror and stuck two fingers through the hole in the door where the door knob use to be. While holding your breath, you slowly pulled the door open and couldn’t believe when it moved without any hiccup. 

You never thought that you would get this far, and now that you were here, you didn’t know what to do. You felt scared. Cautiously, you stuck your head out to make sure no one was in the hallway. When the coast was clear, you tip toed throughout the house, listening to the eery silence that filled it. No one was home. 

When you passed Rafe’s room, you stopped. You were out of supply and you needed more. Rafe owed you anyway, you told yourself. So you ransacked his room. Found about four more small baggies and stuffed them in your pocket before leaving.

As you walk through the halls, you pass Ward’s office and paused. It was open and unlocked. Even before all this shit happened, you never remember it being this way. You didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the adrenaline from another escape attempt or maybe it was the cocaine, but you walked yourself into that office and looked around. 

You cursed at all the accomplishments hanging on his wall, the trophies, and expensive relics of random shit. His desk was neat and orderly despite the major crime he was trying to cover up. You sat yourself in his chair, trying to imagine what it felt like to be him. Motherfucker probably felt like a king. 

You went through his drawers, thumbing through random files you had no business looking through - most of it work related stuff and banking information. You tucked that one in your pocket for later. 

Then you hear something thump against the drawer when you pull it out. A revolver. Small and silver. Cold against your fingertips. You breath hitched as you brought it up to your face. It felt like you were holding a bomb. An object that could change your life forever. Another fresh set of tears threatened to roll down your face but you shook them away. No. No more being sad. 

You shut the drawer hard and walked out with a couple new items in your possession.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The Pogues were spending another dreary day at The Wreck. The September sun might be out, but their spirits were down. Two of their best friends are dead and the other is trapped with two murderers. They were scared for you and have tried everything to get you back. They tried talking to the cops, they tried breaking her out. But each times the cops got in the way. They were running out of hope. At this point, they didn’t even know if they would ever see you again. They just hoped you were okay. They knew you tried escaping a few times and prayed that you would eventually get yourself out of there soon.

“JJ, you gotta eat,” Kie sighed as she watched JJ play with the fries in front of him. If anyone was handing it the worst, it was JJ. Both John B and Y/N were his best friends first. Hell, he was in love with Y/N. Had been since the sixth grade. One of his biggest regrets is that he never told you. Now he didn’t know if he ever would. 

“’M not hungry,” JJ mumbled. 

The door above the restaurant entrance rang as a couple of police officers walked in for their lunch break. The group of three glared at them as they walked in with their cocky stride and their hand resting on their tasers and guns as if everyone should be scared of them. 

“Fucking cops can’t do their goddamn job,” JJ sat back in his seat and flicked one of his fries down on the table. He hated them. More than he ever had. He couldn’t believe these people took an oath to protect this county. Fucking cowards, all of them. 

“Fucking assholes,” Kie said and watched her father approach them with a friendly smile. 

Pope snapped up when an idea popped into his head. “Sarah’s sister.”

“What?” Kie’s brows furrowed. 

“School starts next week,” Pope explained. “She’s starting high school, right? What if you tried talking to her? Maybe you can -”

Pope paused when he heard the sound of the police radios echoing off the walls from their belts. 

“Code10-92. Runaway teen last reported on Baker’s Street. Proceed with caution. Last seen wearing black sports shorts and a white tank. Suspect may be armed and dangerous.”

JJ’s head snapped back to his friends with his brows pinched together. Could this be you? Could you have made it out again? But what did armed and dangerous mean? That didn’t sound like you.

Shoupe radioed back to the station. “On our way.”

The officers dropped ten dollars in the tip jar before charging out the door to go to their vehicles. 

“We gotta go,” JJ stood up first and stuffed his phone and keys into his pocket. The other two nod and follow him out the door. If that call was about you, they wanted to find you before the cops did. “Okay. Kie, go home. She tried going to your house last time. Maybe she’ll try that again. Pope, go to Heyward’s. She trusts your dad. She might try to find him for help.”

“Where are you going to go?” Pope asked. 

“Everywhere else.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

You trudged through your old home with heavy feet. Nothing in there felt familiar to you - like it belonged to you in another life time. You first went to your room and stared at the girl in the mirror. You didn’t recognize her. Bones sticking out of your skin, dark bags under the eyes, and cracked lips and dry skin. 

Without thinking, you took the gun that’s still in your hand and smashed it against the glass, shattering it all around you. 

Ignoring the stinging in your hands from the shallow cuts on your skin, you moved on to the next room. Your brother’s room. It looked like a tornado made its way through here. Everything was tossed and turned from the police and FBI ransacking it during their search for John B. Nothing felt like it was John B’s anymore. Nothing felt private. And that pissed you off. 

Next you went to your dad’s office, somewhere you haven’t been since you found the compass. Even now, it felt like you weren’t supposed to be in here. If you believed in an afterlife, you would think your dad would be shaking his head at you. 

The office looked like John B’s room did. Whatever belonged to your dad now belonged to the state. The only things left were random files and belongings the police didn’t find of importance. But they were important to you. 

The first thing you found was a picture in a cracked frame of you, your dad, and your brother from when you were ten. Your dad was holding both of you as you blew out the candles on a birthday cake. Looking at the picture, you felt your heart being shredded apart. The picture only brought back pain and grief. You wanted that happiness back that ten year old you portrayed in that picture. But you can’t have it. Ever again.

A cry ripped through your throat as you chucked the picture across the room. From there, you went on a rampage, throwing and kicking anything that was in your way. You took one of the baggies out of your pocket and dumped it on the desk in front of you. Without any precision, you fixed the lines up with your finger and took a long whiff. You gripped the roots of your hair and tugged as you sobbed loudly and felt one of the biggest headaches explode in your brain. 

You paced back and forth in the office with the gun held in your shaky hands. You were mumbling to yourself about your options and how horrible of a sister and daughter you were for leaving your family behind. You wanted to see them. You wanted to be with them and prove to them you never meant to abandon them. 

You didn’t hear the door to the Chateau open or the sound of footsteps following your cries. It wasn’t until you heard his soft, delicate voice that you turned around and stared at your best friend with wide eyes and a startled expression. 

“Y/N...” JJ breathed out. He didn’t see the gun yet. He just saw you, crying and broken and not looking like the girl he knew only a few months ago. 

“What are you doing here?” He didn’t recognize your voice either. Hoarsed and scared. “You’re not supposed to be here!”

“The cops are looking for you! Okay? We need to get you out of here!”

“I’m not leaving!”

“What?” JJ looked at you like you grew two heads. “What are you talking about. We -”

“No! I said I’m not leaving! Agh!” Your hands flew up to your pulsating head and gripped at your hair again. The pounding in your head was excruciating and wouldn’t go away. Between the cocaine, your cries, and the exhaustion, you didn’t think it would ever go away. 

That’s when JJ saw the gun and took a shocking step back. His hands immediately flew up in surrender and he gulped down his nerves. Now he knew why the cops had called you armed and dangerous. Probably because Ward reported a stolen gun. JJ never knew you to be a violent person. It wasn’t in you. You couldn’t even hurt a fly. Which meant you didn’t steal this gun to hurt someone else. But probably...

Then his eyes flickered to the desk where he saw the reside of white powder next to an empty baggie. Now he was petrified because he didn’t know how to get through to you - if he even could get through to you.

“Y/N, baby. Put the gun down.”

“No,” You shook you head. “No, no, no. I need to see them. I need to see my dad and John B!”

“Y/n...”

“I should’ve gone with them. I should’ve - I - I didn’t mean to leave. I’m so-sorry, John B. I’m so sorry.” You were a mess. Tears and snot and running all over your red and puffy face. 

JJ kept looking between you and the gun. His only comfort was that he knew you didn’t know how to use it. You wouldn’t even touch the one he stole from Scooter Grubs. But that didn’t mean accidents couldn’t happen.

“I can’t do it anymore,” You continued. “I can’t go back there. I won’t. I won’t. I just want to see my dad.”

JJ took a hesitant step closer to you and nodded his head, keeping his hands up. “Okay. Okay. What if I helped you see your dad?”

“H-How?” You hiccuped. JJ didn’t know where he was going with this. He just knew he had to get that gun out of your hand. He took another step closer to you, but this one made you jump back. “No! No! Stay away!”

“Okay, okay!” JJ yelled back at you. “Hey. I’m here to help you, okay? Whatever you want to do.”

“I want to see them. I want to say sorry. I - I’m so sorry.”

“Y/N, they’re not mad at you-”

“I’m sorry, daddy, I -”

With you distracted, JJ took the opportunity to run at you and tackle you to the ground. He ignored the pang in his heart when he heard you cry harder, wondering if he hurt you, but he cared more about keeping you alive. He wrestled the gun out of your hands and quickly emptied the cartridge. He chucked the multiple pieces across the room and wrapped himself around your crumpled body.

“No! No!” You shrieked in JJ’s shoulder and gripped onto his shirt for dear life. “Please! Let me go!” 

JJ held on to your crumbling body as you wracked with sobs. Exhaustion quickly took over you as the adrenaline slowly vanished out of your system. Your throat was on fire from all the crying and the screaming. Your chest felt empty and your lungs heavy. All you wanted was to close your eyes and never open them again.

JJ couldn’t hold back his own silent tears as they ran down his cheeks. He hated seeing you like this. And he hated even more that he didn’t know how to help you.

“It’s going to be okay,” He said as he brushed the hair out of your face. He kissed the top of your head with his soft lips and kept mumbling into your head. “You’re going to be okay. I’m never leaving your side again. It’s going to be okay.”

He didn’t know if he was trying to convince you or himself. He jus knew he had to make you believe it.

About ten minutes later, he felt your body relax against his. When he found you fast asleep, he pulled out his phone and texted Kie to pick the two of you up. 

Until Kie got there, he stared at the delicate skin on your face with such admiration. Rage bubbled through this veins as the ideas of what you possibly went through in the that hell hole in Figure Eight. 

He knew it was going to be a long road to recovery. He knew there was a lot of fixing that needed to be done. But he made a promise that he will never let you out of his sights again. Because today was a close call. And he never wanted you to be that close to death ever again.

[noritoshiikamo]

worth my time

pairing: noritoshi kamo + fem!oc genre: porn (is fingering enough to call it porn??) without plot ish??? tags//warning: established relationship // slight smut???, fingering, emotional drained reader, reader dated character but then forced into arranged marriage and doubt the whole rs note: unedited, lowercase intended, just me and my nori brainrot dont mind the plotholes and everythingn, its not accurate according to the manga/anime like i just wanna feed myself and i haven't write in ages pls sent some ideas so i can get my lazy brain going, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it  directory: read the first part | second part | third part | bonus

“how long have you known?”

noritoshi shrugged, bringing the cup of tea to his lips. the way he took time to answer her question drove her mad. “noritoshi, how long?” her voice strained. “would it make any difference if i’d known today or 10 years ago?”

her eyes shot wide opened, “10 fucking years?”

a small smile appeared on his lips as he lowered the cup, “hypothetically.” she grabbed one of the pillows from the pile on the bed and threw it to his face, embedded with what little left of her jujutsu power. they have been going on for hours and she was clearly too stubborn to let it go. it was clearly weak; he dodged it with a flick of his wrist switching the pillow’s trajectory. “you’re a fucking asshole,” she gritted through her teeth, falling on bed as wave of anger and sadness crashed through. “you think i wanted an arranged marriage? you think i like having every aspect of my life set since i was a child and scrutinized? i’m a bastard sitting on a throne. unlike you gojou clan, i had it much worst.”

she pulled her hair, fighting the tears that was already streaming down, “it’s not a competition. we are in the same school, i sat next to you for years and you’re telling me you have no idea that i’m your future wife, bullshit!” her eyes flickered as she threw the next close thing within her power’s vicinity; a vase. something hit the vase midway, breaking it into ashes and she watched as a drop of blood stained the floor. he broke it with his power. “you can throw every single thing in this room, y/n, but it doesn’t stop the fact that we are already married.” it was that one sentence that completely broke her. falling on her knees, she let a cry out, clutching on her chest as she cried to her heart’s content. this can’t be happening to me, no, no, no, her mind echoed as she forced herself to surrender to the fact that they are married. it’s not something easy to undo. it pained him to see her like this, but his wife needs to understand that he could do nothing about it. she cried for what seems to be like hours, the sleeves of her yukata wet from the tears and sweat. she fell on the floor to her knees, resting her body against the bed before finally looking up to meet her husband’s eyes. he could see defeat in her tired eyes. “we dated each other,” she sniffled, “was that real or was it just you scouting for your future wife?” her words sound like venom to him “i know you won’t believe me, but it was real. i would still marry you even if the marriage isn’t arranged.” noritoshi stood up, his barefoot echoed on the floor as he walked to his weakened wife. her body was hot, he suspected the skipping (refusing to eat) meals, raging and throwing tantrums after another had put her body in so much stress. he reached for the sash, trying to undo her yukata and she freaked out. grabbing his wrist, she shook her head, “what are you doing?” she asked shakily. “would you listen to me for once? you need a cold shower, you’re burning up, it would help.” she stopped fighting. his tone was a mixed of annoyance and tired. dating him made her realized that noritoshi has a high level of patience; but not right now. letting go of his wrist, she slipped the yukata off her shoulder herself, whined about how she disliked cold shower below her breath. he wore a small smile as he hoisted the naked girl up. it’s a small victory on noritoshi the husband, he’ll savor it for now. 

the girl kneeled on the floor of the shower as noritoshi slowly ran the shower head slowly up her body. her arms wrapped tightly against her chest; she cursed every time the cold water reached new part of her body. ignoring the fact that his yukata was getting wetter, he kneeled behind her and let her rest her back against his chest. with the shower gel, his body froze every time she whined at his touch. something about the way she whined under his touches made him weak. he wants to kiss her stupid face so badly. “it’s cold,” she mumbled, her eyes closed as he ran his palm against her stomach. he pressed a kiss on the side of her face, “better?” he asked as his hand travelled lower. her eyes widened. he continued his kisses, down her jawline and her neck, bruising every spot as his fingers traced a lazy circle on her clit. she moaned out a throaty yes. he continued to whisper sweet nothings into her ears, promises of how he would take care of her, how he’s going to be a perfect husband, how she would be a perfect wife, how they’ll live happily together. she nodded her head in delirium, the pleasure of his fingers had her grinding her back on his crotch and emptying her thoughts. she could barely think straight. “tell me you’re mine,” he commanded, slipping a finger inside, “i can take care of you, baby,” her eyes rolled back, his words were not helping, it was just pure gasoline thrown into a burning fire. “nori, i want to cum,” she muttered, clutching desperate on the now two fingers. she felt his warm breath on the crook where her shoulder meet her neck, his fangs brushing threateningly against the sensitive skin. “open your mouth,” he urged, she whined at the lost feeling of his lips on her neck. she felt something dripping between her lips, his thumb brushing the lower lip. it painted her lips red. it tasted metallic, almost like a blood. it was his. he watched in satisfaction as his blood marking appeared on her right eye. he can control her blood, heightened her senses, throwing her body’s sensitivity off the wall, driving her off the edge with every spot of her body he touches; it sends pleasure twice as much. it wasn’t long until her velvety wall spasmed around his fingers. her body jolted forward; her shaky hands pressed against the wet tile preventing her from falling face first as orgasm washes out. she could barely make any noises, her throat was so dry, she felt like it might bleed.   she won’t deny that the orgasm eased her pain, but she would deny if he dared brought it up; he would not get the pleasure of knowing she enjoyed that.

his palm brushed against her thigh, causing her to look up. he raised his eyebrows in question which she brushed it off with a nod. she grabbed his hand and steadied herself up.

“i’m okay,” she voiced out.

he undressed, continued their shower from square one. they’ve done this before; sharing shower after mission washing blood off each other but this time, it feels different. she sighed at the pleasure, letting her hands rest against his toned chest. we are married, the sentence echoed in her mind as he massaged the shampoo on her head. never ever she thought that this is how she’ll be married. it’s not like she dreamed of a huge wedding. he did throw a small gathering, respecting her boundaries and her anxiety but everything just moved so fast. her parents are dead, her only remaining family is satoru, a distant cousin who finds it a no issue for her to marry her boyfriend. it is not an issue for her to marry noritoshi kamo, she loves him so much, but not like this.   she wished she had more choices in this.   he hummed a song, a habit of his that he caught from his mother, a lullaby his mother always sings. she wanted to hate him so much, for befriending her, making her fall in love with him and then forced her into a marriage. but when she opened her eyes and stared up into his, to see such loving look in his eyes, it weakened her. her heart is a wreck. “why do you do this to me?” she whimpered, slamming her fist into his chest. he refused to answer.

she was tired of his silence.

he turned the shower off, opening the glass door letting waft of cold air out. he left to fetch her towel and she stalked toward the nearby mirror. “how long until the thing wears off?” she asked when she caught a glimpse of herself. she reached to touch the blood marking on her eyes. he wrapped the towel around her body, hugging her from behind and through the foggy mirror, he brushed his thumb on her cheek, whispered something she couldn’t catch as the mark subsided.

“this doesn’t change the fact that i’m mad at you.”

he laughed it off, “i didn’t say it does. you always feel better post orgasm, you know how i know it?” he kissed her temple, eyes burned into hers, “because i dated you.”

her teeth gritted in annoyance.

“you think if i dated you to scout my future wife, i wouldn’t waste my time learning how your body responds to me, the way you yearn for me,” a kiss fell on her neck, “learn how well you control your shikigami and goes through lengths to teach you how to use my bow,” another kiss went up her jaw, “teach you my own blood techniques because god, why jujutsu needs to be such an exclusive thing,” arms went around her waist, “worried sick every single time utahime send you off for a mission, taking care of your wounds, being there to catch your reckless ass,” his breath lingered on her ears, “completely falling in love with you wholeheartedly for 3 years. i’d abandoned my father’s choice. you are arranged to be my wife, on my own accord. i choose you. you weren’t my father’s choice, but even in million years, even if sukuna’s vessel reincarnated again and again, even if the world split open and sent you miles away, even if i’m not the head of kamo clan,” his hand grabbed her chin, hard and forced her to meet his eyes, his words send shivers down her spine, “i would still choose you.”

she’s completely putty in his hand. she let out a soft whine as his body abandoned her, his warmth gone and came the cold biting her bare skin. her eyes followed the back of the man as he stalked to the wardrobe leaving the girl alone to ponder on his words.

“now, wouldn’t it just be a waste of my time, my wife?”

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

63 and 66 with richkid!tom?

Alright guys, here's the first post for the Summer of Love, I hope everyone enjoys! Remember I'm accepting requests until the end of summer so be sure to keep sending them in! Love you guys xx

Making it Worse

63 - “We are not cuddling until the AC is fixed.”

66 - “Do you look this good every morning?”

Pairing: Rich Kid! Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: The AC goes out, Tom thinks he can fix it himself

Masterlist

Summer of Love

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(y/n) groaned as she woke up, kicking the sheets off her burning body, hoping the cold air would bring her back to a comfortable temperature. Only the air wasn’t nearly as cold as she’d hoped and didn’t really provide her with any relief at all. Tom was woken up by her stirring, an affectionate smile coming to his lips as he kissed her shoulder.

“Goodmorning,” he hummed.

“It’s so fucking hot,” she groaned, “Can you turn the fan on?”

“Alright but it’s gonna cost you,” he smirked, kissing her nose as he pushed himself out of bed. He flicked the ceiling fan on and opened the door, hoping the air flow would cool them off even faster, “There, it should start cooling off now.”

“Thank god,” she sighed, throwing her arm over her eyes dramatically, “I’m about to melt.”

He sat at her feet with a smile, “It’s really not that bad princess, you can take your clothes off if you’re too warm.”

“I know you’re just saying that to be a perve but it’s a good idea,” she sat up, pulling off his shirt and tossing it to the ground before she fell back onto the mattress.

“You come into my home, complaining constantly, tossing my designer clothes to the ground,” he scolded as he straddled her hips, “It’s quite rude you know?”

“I do that almost every night and you keep inviting me back.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he sighed, setting his hands on her bare stomach,

“You'd think I'd know the answer to that by now,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He smiled, running a hand up her side before pressing his lips to hers. A giggle escaped her lips as her hands tangled in his hair, pulling his body in closer to hers. His hand moved upward, only to be stopped at her rib cage.

“Something wrong princess?” he smirked, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth.

She nodded, “Yeah, it's just hot. Maybe we could crank the AC until it gets cooled off?”

“Alright princess, I got it,” he teased, giving her one final kiss before ducking out of the room.

Tom found the thermometer in the hallway, which told him the AC was on, but the temperature was reading much higher than it should. With a frown he lowered the temperature and returned to the bedroom.

“I turned up the AC,” he hummed, plopping back down beside her.

“Are you sure? It doesn’t sound like it’s on…” (y/n) stood on the bed, raising her hand towards the vent above them, “I don’t feel any air.”

He frowned and stood, raising his own hand to see if he could feel anything, “I don’t feel anything either…”

“Fuck,” she groaned, “You need to call someone.”

He rolled his eyes, “I do not, look, why don’t you go take a nice cool shower and I’ll figure out what’s wrong okay? I promise it will be nice and cool by the time you’re done.”

“Okay…” she pursed her lips, “But if it’s not back on by the time I get out of the shower you’re calling someone.”

“It’ll be back on, don’t worry,” he pressed a kiss to her cheek, “In fact I’m sure I’ll be joining you in the shower in just a couple of minutes.”

“Alright, whatever you say Tommy.”

(y/n) took her time in the shower, only to be disappointed when Tom never came to join her. Eventually she had to exit the shower, and immediately was struck with the hot air she had been dreading. Tom sat on the edge of their bed, on the phone with who she hoped was some sort of repairman.

“Right, right, thank you, yeah, you too,” he hung up with a sigh, “Someone is coming to look at the ac.”

“Couldn’t fix it yourself huh?” she teased as she dug through the dresser for any clothes that might help her keep cool.

“I thought it would be best left to the professionals,” his arms wrapped around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder, “They’ll be here in an hour so we won’t have to suffer for long.”

“Thank god, can you let me get dressed now?”

“Why get dressed? You’ll stay cooler with nothing on.”

“In your dreams,” she poked his nose as she began pulling on her clothes, instantly he had his arms around her again, only to be pushed back away.

“Ah, I won’t be cheeky,” he promised as he reached for her again, “Come give me some love.”

“No way, it’s too hot,” she shook her head, “I’m gonna go lay in front of the fan and you’re going to keep your hands to yourself.”

“I’ll lay with you, we can put on a movie while we wait,” he followed behind her as she moved to the living room, “I’m not trying to be cheeky love, I’ll keep it PG.”

she declared as she fell onto the couch, pointing to the opposite end of the sectional, “You stay in your bubble over there.”

He glared at her and let out an annoyed huff, “Fine, you stay in here with the fan, I’ll go fix the AC.”

“Tom you already tried, you shouldn’t keep messing with it.”

“You said we can’t cuddle until the AC is fixed, I want to cuddle now, so I’m going to fix the AC now,” he pressed a kiss to her cheek, “I will be right back.”

“Okay…”

She watched him disappear out the back door, just hoping he wouldn’t make the situation any worse. Tom’s privileged upbringing hadn’t led him to being very handy, so she had a hard time believing he’d have any chance at fixing the unit. Her jaw nearly hit the floor when she heard the vents coming buzzing back to life. She jumped from her seat on the couch, running under the vent in hopes of being blasted by the cold air.

“Oh shit,” she swore as the back door slid open.

“I did it,” Tom beaned proudly, “I think I’ve earned a kiss at the very least.”

She pursed her lips, hating to burst his bubble, “Tom it’s blowing hot air.”

His face fell instantly, “What?”

“Come over here, there’s hot air blowing out of the vents.”

“Oh no,” he groaned and dragged himself across the room, “W-Well maybe it’ll cool down after a second.”

“I think we should just turn it off.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” he blushed, “I’ll go look at it again…”

“No, no, no, you aren’t touching anything else.”

With the hot air blowing constantly the inside of the house quickly became too hot for the couple, leaving them to hide out on the couch until the repairmen arrived.

“How long?” (y/n) fanned her face as Tom returned to the balcony, two glasses of lemonade in hand, “Please tell me they’re almost done.”

“They said it’ll be a few days.”

“Days?!”

He nodded, “Yeah, they said they’ll have to special order a couple parts, but they’ve got the hot air to stop blowing at least.”

“Tom, we can’t live like this,” she groaned, “I’ll die, I will literally melt.”

“I’m not gonna make you stay in the heat princess, we’ll go stay in a hotel for a few days alright?” he assured, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “Come help me pack up, it’ll be fun.”

She dragged herself off the patio and back into the house, “At least they got the hot air to stop blowing.”

He nodded, his cheeks dusting pink in remembrance, “Yeah, they uh, said we actually made it a lot worse, it probably would have been just a little repair if we had just left it alone.”

“We? That was all you babe,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck with a smirk, “You’re not really much of a handyman.”

“It was both of us, I wouldn’t have kept messing with it if you hadn’t refused to cuddle with me.”

“Don’t turn this around on me just because you had a temper tantrum,” she teased before stepping away.

“Oh I’m so sorry I tried to show you my love and affection,” he rolled his eyes as he pulled their suitcases from the closet, “I’ll keep it to myself in the future.”

“You’re such a diva,” she laughed, “I’ll make it up to you alright? We can go to the hotel and order a bunch of room service and cuddle for the rest of the day. How does that sound?”

“I’ll tell you what princess,” he grabbed her by the waist pulling her flush to him with a smirk, “You throw in dessert and you’ve got a deal.”

Her lips drew to a smile as she pressed her lips to his, “Deal.”

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Taglist:

@niallberry @spideyssunshine @namoreno @thevery-firstpage @outshineallthestars @roseke @zspideyy @emistrash @tomsirishgirlx @andreagf956 @peachyafshawn

[jujutsu-headcanons]

Gojo Satoru general headcanons

Let's get one thing clear: this man is absolutely chaotic. He is always full of energy. His energy levels never reach below 50%. He is loud and proud, always running, and never takes a minute to relax.

Do not give him Monster. Shoko did that once and it took her forever to get him off the ceiling. Also, avoid caffeine. Shoko replaces his normal coffee with decaf and he still hasn't noticed the difference. Keep it that way.

He was the class clown when he was younger. He wasn't exactly a trouble maker, but he may as well be. I cannot word that sentence and I am sorry. Next.

All of his teachers assumed he never listened in class, so they always called in him when they thought he wasn't paying attention. It still shocked them every time he rattled off the correct answer.

Not only did he answer the question correctly, but he could also explain his reasoning behind the answer, and if it was multiple choice, explain why the other answers were wrong. 

This tall man child would march up to the board and absolutely fill it to the brim with work, turn around, drop the chalk-like a mic drop and walk back to his desk with the smuggest look on his face.

That doesn't mean he did the work tho

Idk how schools in japan work but we all know schools in America only care about the amount of work you do and not what you actually know so we'll use that for the sake of the headcanon: he had straight D's bc he never turned in his work

Despite not doing the work snd goofing off, teachers actually really liked him

A lot of people liked him and he was super popular, but he still felt alone

Fake friends, you know how that works, he didn't meet any real friends until he became a shaman

Clean freak. This dude actually makes his bed. He scrubs his bathroom twice a week. His desk can get cluttered but he straightens up once a week. He's not exactly a germaphobe because

He cannot respect your personal space and that's actually canon but let me take it a step further 

He's a slapper. Especially when he laughs. It doesn't hurt, it's playful dw. He hugs you from behind especially when he's cold. He picks you up and carries you around. He will grab your wrist, arm, or hand and lead you around even if you're following him. He lays his legs across you or lays across your lap. Puts his head on your shoulder. Platonic cuddling between friends is mandatory. He's just so hands-on it's ridiculous.

Unless you explicitly tell him you're uncomfortable he won't stop

Don't worry, if you aren't in that type of relationship, your no-no square is safe. Except, if you seem chill, he will slap your ass regardless of friendship status. His ass is also slappable. You can't tell me Geto and Gojo didn't run around slapping each other asses, okay

He was weird and scrawny as a child. He didn't start beefing out until he started training to be a shaman and he's still kinda smaller than most beefy boys

He can pick you up and throw you around easily. He carried around a 170 pound Yuji like a sack of potatoes and can easily carry around three times that weight

It's amazing he's so tiny because you remember 2014 Shane Dawson making all of those wack ass desserts that was just s pile of chaos wrapped in chocolate?

He can eat every last bite of one of those monstrosities without getting a stomach ache, gaining weight, or dying basically

He knows bc Yuji dared him to do it

He has really cold hands and feet

He sounds old. Let me elaborate. He's constantly cracking his joints. They also creak when he moves. He complains about body pains like he's 80 y/o

He also shares wisdom with the kids as if he's actually 80 y/o

It's irrelevant advice that doesn't make sense but is also useful. Megumi can't count the number of times he's asked Gojo for feedback on his technique but had been told to remember to chew 40 times or never go to bed angry

Starts off sentences with "now son" and "when I was your age"

He uses his blindfold as a headband when he wants his hair out of his face. He also uses headbands as... Headbands... When he wants to wear sunglasses but get his hair out of his face

He owns so many pairs of sunglasses but he always wears the same pair

He's only bought a handful of them himself, most of them are gifts

No one knows what to get him for Christmas or his birthday bc he has everything, so they resort to sunglasses

His favorite pair is a pair that Shoko and Geto bought him as a gag. He thought they were dead serious, though, so he wore them around for a month

They were heart-shaped, rose-tinted glasses

Can you believe this man doesn't use any gel or anything to keep his hair spiky with the blindfold on? It just naturally defies gravity when the blindfold is on

Tell this man he's pretty because he already knows. He's narcissistic but not the cringy kind

Photogenic as hell. Takes great pictures from any angle. 

He gives everyone a different story as to why he covers his eyes. Sometimes he says it's because his eyes are too pretty and are a distraction. Sometimes he says it's because the sunglasses/bandages/blindfold look cooler than his eyes. Sometimes he says it's to protect the six eyes from seeing things he doesn't want to see. The world may never know

He's tried covering his whole face before, but he thinks he's too pretty for that. He at least wants one of his many amazing features to be shown at all times.

So about his driver's license;

He knows how to drive. He can be a good driver. When he wants to be. He just doesn't have a driver's license.

Now he TELLS people he just never got around to getting one, however, there's a rumor he lost it due to too many parking tickets

It's amazing the only tickets he's ever gotten have been from that and once he got caught without a seatbelt; he would have gotten out of that one if he hadn't been flirting with the police officer so bad

This doesn't stop Gojo from driving places though

He steals Ijichi's car a LOT and Ijichi DOESN'T KNOW HOW like??? The windows are never broken and it doesn't look hotwired-

Gojo has a key

You're not even supposed to be able to duplicate car keys but Gojo did 

Also; none of the first-year trio knows he doesn't have a driver's license, though that much should be painfully obvious

He whips around corners, speeds up at yellow lights, goes "watch this" and does a donut, it's just a mess

The poor students have to sit in the backseat too. Just imagine Megumi with all three seatbelts around him like that one meme.

He thrives off of Nobara and Yuji screaming from the backseat, and he can see Megumi being smooshed because he thought the middle seat was the safest through the rearview mirror

Which he doesn't even need because of the six eyes

Despite being such a reckless driver, he knows when danger will happen, so he's never once gotten in a wreck

He blasts the radio, which makes up for the driving.

Has a habit of getting in a car and ending up in the McDonalds drive-thru

Steals other people's fries and keeps the fullest one for himself.

He was rebellious as a kid and teenager, but hey, at least his juvie record is sealed 

He's been detained and in the back of a cop car many times, but the reason was never really bad enough for him to be arrested. Mostly he's just being mouthy. And the time he got caught spray painting on the side of a building. And that one time he and Getou hopped the fence to get into the local pool. And that other time-

It got worse after Getou wasn't around to get him out of trouble. Suddenly, breaking the rules wasn't fun anymore and he mellowed out. 

Tried alcohol and cigarettes before he was legal. Decided neither was his thing, however, he did start drinking occasionally when he was legal.

He's a fucking chaotic drunk. Oh my god he's absolutely feral

Most bars in the vicinity know him by name and they sigh whenever he walks in

Shoko is his emergency contact. She hates it

Shoko has to drag drunk Gojo home at least twice a month and is not happy about it

Once she left him in an alley. He made it home okay so she guesses it's fine

Once he got so drunk he spilled beer on his sock. The thought the fastest way to dry them was by sticking them in the microwave. Forgot about it until someone asked, "Who the fuck is cooking socks???"

I feel it important he was in the break room of the local grocery store and no one knows how he got there

As he was escorted out he stole a grocery cart and rode away in it while singing Don't Threaten Me (With A Good Time) by Panic! At The Disco

He has no alcohol tolerance at all what so ever

He will literally just stare at you and giggle

It's funny he's really flirty but also doesn't seal the deal. Literally, every woman in that bar is willing to get in his bed but he declines every offer. No one knows why

Its because he respects women

He helps his students break the rules as long as they're within reason. Once night Yuji was really hungry and after having a temper tantrum he couldn't order Uber eats bc the school is supposed to be secret Gojo helped sneak him out to get food. Who needs curfew anyway.

The shirts in his closet range from like twenty bucks to the iconic rich bitch shirt the kids ruined in that one chapter we all know the one 

He still wears that by the way, he calls it "art" 

When he was younger, Megumi drew a picture of Gojo being eaten by his shadow dogs. Gojo found it and now it's framed in his room.

He keeps up with current trends and memes like no one's business. This is how he bonds with his kids.

Don't call him old, but also, he'll tell you to respect your elders it's a mess

He has a lot of games on his phone. You can usually find him holding his phone sideways playing some RPG game he probably spent too much money on 

He did hop on the Pokemon Go hype train but after becoming overpowered he got bored

This happens to a lot of games. He pays way too much money, gets to be the strongest in the server, and gets bored

He likes games where you can kill other people's troops and likes to watch as they lose all their power

I canon him as being borderline sadistic

This is why he's Sakata Gintoki reincarnated

White hair, sweet tooth, black leather clothes, dad vibes, never takes anything seriously bc when he does he's scary as fuck, the works.

He is Sakata Gintoki

He liked Gintama growing up. He watched a lot of iconic shows as they aired. He considers himself an og

He's hella bilingual

Because he's the strongest he goes overseas for missions a lot. Because of this he speaks a lot of languages and knows a lot about international cuisine 

He takes pictures of himself eating disgusting foods like snails. He never likes them but he loves the idea of Nobara gagging back in japan

Has paperwork sitting untouched on his desk from three months ago that he will not touch for at least another three months

Does the crossword puzzles in the newspaper every week

Uses humor as a coping mechanism and it honestly just became a personality

Constantly popping his joints. I'm sorry if you find this gross I too find it gross.

Probably brought home every stray animal he ever met ever until he was at least like 22 y/o

Tags: @wasabito @kittaliapenn

[crash-hawk]

Expo Liveblogs Shrike: Chapter 6

You know that feeling when you’re reading or watching something and you know.  You know exactly what’s coming.  You called it ages ago.  And  yet there’s that part of you that’s like “maybe it won’t happen?  maybe it’ll be okay?”

Yeah.  Here we go. 

He was afraid of this strange loyalty to Dream. It had come so quickly. Too quickly, and too much.  There was no explanation for it, no rationality. Was this what devotion meant? A blind and desperate obedience? Did all friendships feel so all-consuming, to the point that it would be death to let go? Did all the poets lie about it being easy?

God I want to shake you until you rattle you’re so close.  I can see the smoke rising off of your solitary brain cell. 

“Well, see, that’s the problem, Dream. You sound nonchalant enough. But this—” George gestured to the mess of maps, to the little wooden soldiers that stood for the armies he planned to raise. “This isn’t what a nonchalant person does. You’re like a child throwing a tantrum to get his father’s attention. But what will you do the moment he turns around, Dream? You don’t seem ready for that.” 

THAT’S what I’m talking about.  Get his ass.

“He said he’d throw the whole board away if he couldn’t win,” George said. “He’d do it even if we were still on it.”

Sapnap blinked, and it looked like he was waking up from a long, long dream.

“Do you think we’re just pawns to him?” Sapnap asked quietly.

George faced him fully. “When it came down to it, if he tossed me to the wolves, Sapnap, would you still take his side?”

Sapnap looked stricken. “He wouldn’t do that.” But he sounded unsure. “If he did, I’d—” He took a deep breath, and the next words out of his mouth were grounded in something deeper than his loyalty to Dream. “I’d kill him.”

“This war of his, Sapnap,” George said. “It’ll be the end of us. I don’t know why I know that, but I believe it. I believe it down to my bones. And I’m not ready to lose you just yet.”

I am suffering.

“What did you tell him this time, George?” Dream asked, and the room around them blurred around the edges. It was hard to focus on anything that wasn’t the angry fire in Dream’s eyes, or his grip on George’s wrist, pressing deep once again, burning him. “Because whatever it was, George, it was enough to chase him out of here.” 

Fuck OFF you gaslighting son of a bitch GOD. 

He was sitting near the fire, his sword lying beside him, never far from his side. A white cloak was thrown over his shoulders, the same one all the other soldiers were wearing. It should have made him indistinguishable from the rest, but there was no hiding what he was. He was a warrior among men. They could not hope to win without him. And despite everything, George couldn’t help but relish in their shared divinity. They were gods. They would always be gods. This, and everything, was beneath them. No matter what grew between them now—time, anger, betrayal—they would always have their immortality.

At the end of time, it would still be the three of them together.

“Sap—” George began.

“—nap!” a different voice finished.

George blinked, and in an instant, Sapnap wasn’t alone.

There were three people by the fire now. Someone had their arm around Sapnap’s shoulders, jostling him in that way that George knew he didn’t like. But Sapnap was laughing.

oh no

“Oh,” Dream breathed. “He’s replaced us, George.”

No no no please Apollo I’m sorry I forgot to say DNI please. 

Sapnap looked anguished. “I didn’t have time. I had to get out of there. I couldn’t be there anymore. You have to understand, George. Talking to Dream, when I told him I wanted him to leave you alone, when I started arguing with him, it felt like—” He made a frustrated noise, hands working to fill the gaps between his words. “It felt like I was being suffocated. Or, like I had been suffocating for years and just noticed. I needed air. And I couldn’t get enough of it until I was as far away from that house as possible.”

“But why didn’t you take me with you?” George growled. “Did you never stop and think that maybe I was suffocating, too? Why did you leave me behind?”

“Well, why didn’t you follow?” Sapnap shot back.

In their silence, they knew they had the same answer to each other’s questions.

And it was walking up to them in the rain, a small smile on his face.

BUT YOU CAN RUN NOW.  JUST GRAB KARL AND Q AND STUFF THEM IN YOUR SADDLEBAGS LIKE A COUPLE OF OLIVE GARDEN BREADSTICKS AND RUN AWAY TO FANTASY BERMUDA.  YOU CAN DO IT I BELIEVE IN YOU COME ON. 

God this whole conversation hurts.  They both knew what was happening and they loved each other but they couldn’t save each other and only Sapnap was able to free himself and now he’s been caught and they both know it.  Fuck.

Dream scoffed. “Put your claws away, little bloodhound. I wouldn’t do anything to them.”

The unsaid word hovered in the air between them: yet.

“At the very least,” Dream said, “could you give us an estimate?”

Sapnap blinked. “For fucking what?”

“For when you finally get bored of playing mortal.” Dream cocked his head to the side, staring Sapnap down with bright green eyes.

George should have known then. The only animals in the forest with colors that bright were the ones that poisoned you.

God fucking dammit.

“No, Sapnap,” Dream said evenly. “Insanity would be thinking this won’t all fall apart around you. What do you think you’re doing here? Do you really think you can love anything without destroying it? Do you think it isn’t our nature to break? And mortals are very breakable, Sapnap.” 

Dream deadass walked up to Sapnap’s face and said “Cute bfs you’ve got there, shame if anything were to happen to them” like a two-bit mafia thug fuck YOU.

“George,” Sapnap said. Just “George.” In that single syllable, George heard everything else: Please and I’m sorry and Come with me.

And George almost did.

Except he remembered Sapnap’s smile around the campfire, and another memory, rising unbidden, of George hanging over a pit, hanging on for dear life. But the memory was different this time. This time, Sapnap stood over him. And Sapnap let him fall.

In the end, Dream was right. It was a matter of pride.

NO IT’S NOT.  IT’S LITERALLY HIM, THE PS5 INSIDE YOUR HEAD.  GEORGE PLEASE. 

He looked up to find Dream standing over him, his green eyes fixed on where Sapnap had disappeared to.

“Our symphony is still unfinished, George,” he said.

George shook again. And this time, he knew for sure he was trembling.

“We still have our war to plan. We still have our angel to kill. And we can’t do it without Sapnap.” A smile flickered on his face, and that was how George knew he had already had a plan. “If he wants to fight his mortals’ war so badly, then I’ll let him. I think it’ll do our war god good to finally learn what it feels like to lose.”

George sucked in a shaky breath. “What are you going to do?”

“George,” Dream sighed, and when he finally looked down to meet George’s eyes, George felt like someone had dragged a sharp knife down his spine. “Who said I was going to do anything?”

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

In a kingdom, there was a castle. In the castle, there was a bedroom. Its occupant did not sleep, but he still dreamed. Often, the dreams were not his own. Often, the dreams were not dreams at all. They were orders from a voice he could not disobey and would not remember in the morning.

The forgetting did not absolve him of the crime, but it did absolve him of the shame. In the morning, he could wake up, back in a bed he did not remember sleeping in, and he could go out of his room, down the hallway, down the stairs, down to the garden, and he could meet the prince’s eyes without flinching. And he could smile, ignorant, so blissfully ignorant. But that was tomorrow.

Tonight, Technoblade dreamed. And he dreamed of blood.

happy fucking pride month, y’all

(tagging @go-learn-esperanto​ for the latest installment in our tag-team-liveblogging adventure, come suffer with me)